Red
by CalliopeMused
Summary: AU Four metahumans, four red ID cards, two years of the Metahuman Acts, and the one human crazy enough to think about forming the Titans.
1. CHAPTER ONE

Summary: _Tim Drake gets the idea to put together a team of crime-fighting metahumans. It's crazy enough that it just might work._

_ I don't own the Teen Titans. If I did… let's just say that there would be changes and leave it at that. Many thanks to Kayasuri-N, They-Call-Me-Orange, and 99 for listening to the many rambling thoughts that led to this idea. This story will not top 300,000 words. (I hope so. I really, really do.)_

_**Red**_

**CHAPTER ONE**  
Tim was not having a good day.

Before Timothy Drake could turn the key on his office door, a reporter pounced. The man (cheap tie, secondhand suit, bad cologne) wanted a lead on the Prewitt case. Victor had saved him from the reporter by asking just when the man's press pass had expired. That would have been a good sign-but Victor was there to deliver a folder on the latest suspect in Jump City crime. When someone asked Victor to bring folders around the office, Tim wouldn't hear a word of complaint. He just would be on even worse terms than usual with his colleague. It didn't help that he was a touch intimidated by the man.

He was a police officer. He could deal with big guys. As one of the first officers in Jump City's Metahuman Justice Department, he wasn't that worried that Victor's arms could convert into some kind of cannon. He was more intimidated by the fact that Dr. Victor Stone was 23, had a Ph.D. in electric systems engineering, and was level-headed to a fault. Tim knew some older cops that had ice water in their veins, but he thought Victor was a little closer to liquid nitrogen. That was the only reason that the department's most valuable acquisition kept his calm when people kept assuming the station's only black employee would be thrilled to deliver files.

The experienced cops used to working with civilian specialists didn't transfer to the MJD. They stayed with the Jump City Justice Department- no one called police stations by the expected name anymore. Some politician had tried to make stations more approachable. The Metahuman Justice Department got to change its letterhead.

Any chances of conversation were shot. Victor kept a good attitude, but would be so polite that any prolonged talk was doomed. So, Tim had tried for the one subject they could talk about together: just which officers were likely to transfer out. The older cops stayed with the JCJD. The MJD had all the cops who thought that they could handle metas, and the highest hospitalization rate in the west. Their department was gaining enough popularity to afford to keep someone with a doctorate on their payroll to design all the technology that gave them any chance of taking metahuman criminals into jail without too many A290 incident-report forms.

Besides that start to his morning, there was yet another pair of protests on the front staircase. The staircase was meant to be impressive, a high rise of long marble steps rising from the sidewalk. All it had become was a hard-to-clean platform for people with picket signs. They really should just cordon off areas and label them permanently. It would be much better than having the two factions constantly switching areas.

A few metahumans usually took the time to protest the Metahuman Acts. They didn't seem to notice that the acts had passed two years ago, and rarely seemed to notice much of anything. They spent more time talking to each other and setting their signs down than proving their point through enthusiastic sign presentation. The metas demonstrating were usually quiet, polite, and less trouble than their opponents.

The other demonstrators felt that the MJD was wasting their tax dollars, and were in favor of more restrictive measures their conservative political hero was talking up in Congress. They were more prone to heckling, and he already was on unsteady enough terms with Victor. If Tim hadn't been on duty, and they had been in a side alley, he just might have considered a bit of vigilante-style justice. Slander was a crime. That thought, though, would require him to open up the safe in his apartment. Most people kept jewelry, money, valuables, or passports in a safe. Tim had a Robin uniform that may or may not still fit after four years as a civilian.

Four years or not, he still had more training and experience than most of the senior cops. That was why he was one of few MJD cops to patrol alone. His superiors hadn't liked the idea, but he couldn't fight unless he had a partner who could do just as much (if not more) damage without a gun. They didn't teach cops innumerable forms of martial arts. He tested out of having a partner and made three arrests his first day going solo. He was the paper-pushers' favorite example, and didn't like it at all. The next time a politician tried using his reputation, Tim would have something to say about it. He worked alone, and not for their political campaigns.

He was alone when he encountered the most-wanted criminal in Jump City.

Tim radioed for backup, took his keys out of the ignition, and locked his patrol car. When dealing with her, it was best to assume that she would steal anything. By taking his keys and locking the car, it just might slow her down for a few minutes.

"Jinx."

"Good morning, officer," she said, indolently stretching. "Sitting on the edge of the fountain is a crime now?"

"No, but there is the matter of two bank robberies just yesterday. I could read you the rap sheet, but we can do that after I recite your Miranda rights."

She scrutinized his uniform. Shined boots, worn leather case on the badge, DRAKE spelled in pale embroidery next to the MJD logo. "You recite that when I'm in custody, flatfoot, unless you'd like to say it now, to make it feel like you're doing your job right. I've told you and everyone else running around in the dark blue getup. You're not going to catch me. Nobody's that lucky."

"Your luck can run out."

"In the name of regulations-oh, my, did I insult your religion? I know policemen believe in regulations." She gave him a wide-eyed look of shock he didn't believe at all. "Well-to cut the cursing- you'll run out of bad dialogue long before I run out of bad luck to dole out. Don't know how much more you need, really, because that half-pout/half-glower combination you have probably would break- hm- six mirrors, give or take a fracture."

She smiled in her most predatory fashion before he could recover. "I think that concludes the banter portion of this contest. Now, we can move onto the physical- so far, the score is bad girl 1, good guy goose-egg."

"This isn't a contest, Jinx."

"Actually," she said coolly, with the pretense of examining her nails, "it is. I would agree, if you had contested 'game.' That implies rules, and I don't follow your regulations. As for contest- why ever not? If you should ever win, you would have the distinct pleasure of hoping I don't destroy your squad car. When you lose, it's nicer to say that you lost a contest than to go over the alternative."

"And just what is the alternative?"

She smiled. He was almost too easy- but she liked a cop with just enough smarts to follow her lead and understand the insults. "You let a dangerous criminal escape. Again."

"I know that you're not keeping this capital for yourself, Jinx. I can do an investigation without bringing you into the precinct. My superiors won't like it, but I can do it."

Jinx frowned theatrically, exaggerating the expression into a parody with a well-hidden spark of sincerity beneath the act. "You know, there's just one problem with that little arrangement."

He knew that he shouldn't hope, if she looked thoughtful- but that was one bad habit he had yet to get rid of it. "And what is that?"

"I don't trust you, and I have no reason to trust you. Facts of life, officer. When your mommy and daddy love each other very much, you show up nine months later. Everybody dies eventually and that will be sooner if you do something stupid. Not everybody pays taxes.

"From years of experience and testing, metahumans can't trust anyone regulated by politicians to get the job done. For that matter, metahumans can't trust humans. They don't work together. Period." She stood to deliver her last argument. "And, on top of that... one more fact of life. You and all your goody-two-shined-shoes are never going to catch me, because-"

She didn't finish the sentence. She took off at a dead sprint, darted in front of a city bus, and had cleared four lanes of traffic before he could see past the long vehicle.

She was fast, but he still saw someone with bright pink hair duck into the small coffee shop across the street. He used the crosswalk five yards to his right. He could take a few seconds; he was familiar with that restaurant. It was a family-owned business, and the son would be taking over within weeks. One unisex bathroom with glass-block windows, a matriarch heading the kitchen to keep anyone from running out the back way, and only a narrow door near the counter for a way out. The shop had a picture window that took most of its narrow property, and there wasn't much room for a chase. Jinx, for all her bluster, wouldn't harm civilians. It made him want to make a deal, but she would never trust someone who wasn't meta.

He walked in the front door and scanned the room as he flashed his badge. Of the few patrons sitting inside on a cloudy morning, two women were wearing sunglasses. It was just his luck- bad, whenever Jinx was involved.

"I'm sorry about the disturbance," he said to the room. "Officer Tim Drake, MJD." He approached the woman closer to the bathroom. Her sunglasses came close to covering her forehead, and didn't seem at all in character with conservative tastes. "May I see some ID, ma'am?" he asked. If he saw a white identification card, he would immediately look at the other possible suspect. As good as Jinx's resources seemed to be, no one else had the technology to fake IDs.

A red card- he glanced for a second, and knew that she wasn't Jinx. The picture matched too well, and he remembered hearing from a coworker. He had done his research, of course. Not only was the MJD experimental, a half-demon lived in their jurisdiction. No fake ID cards had that section of the card in the right font.

He didn't need more than a half-second glance to know that he was looking at the wrong person and that Jinx had been sitting by the window.

The glass shattered outward, and she was gone at a dead run, heading straight into the alleys. He didn't know why the city couldn't just block off those alleyways. Jinx was gone. Again.

He turned to apologize, but the woman wearing sunglasses was already moving. She had folded the newspaper she had been reading, taken her purse, and thrown her empty coffee cup away. "I'm sorry," he said, when he was close enough. There was no need to yell such a thing across the room.

For a second, he would have sworn that he saw red flashing beneath the glasses, and behind the long bangs that covered her forehead. He must have imagined it, though. Her voice, when she spoke, was perfectly calm. "I accept your apology and the fact that you would do the same again. It will not happen in this shop, however. I will not return."

"But... why?"

"The _public _online registration database would let them find the main fact easily," she said, sidestepping him easily. "If you will excuse me, Officer Drake, I will be on my way." One point in his favor was that he was not foolish enough to try stopping her. She walked into the shop's one bathroom, and did not dignify stares with a return look. She didn't know what tabloid those people had their information from, but she didn't plan to rip the place in two. She planned to find another place to drink coffee in the morning, as her current dive of an apartment just might be off-lease soon. It was better to just stay away and live out of packing boxes. Unpacking was too much foolish optimism.

The cop was gone two minutes later. She had washed her hands for an entire minute, just so she could be sure. If she heard more from him, she would have more than just a temporary lapse. She should have just stayed home, after breaking another light bulb. She had caused no property damage that time, but no one could know that the flash of red had even happened. She was in control, finally, and meant to stay that way.

She was in the process of leaving through the side entrance when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She forced herself to stay calm. This wasn't like the last time. She still could hold her own, but she wouldn't have to. She turned to face the owner's wife, who rarely came out of the kitchens she ruled with a heavy heirloom copper ladle.

"Here," she said briskly, offering a bulky paper bag with sure movements. Her gift would not be refused. "You have a red card, but that should not make a change. You take this and then you'll be tided over for awhile. Perhaps my husband won't find out that you have some good coffee to go with the pastries, hm? Even with our best customers, he gets so careful with the coffee."

"Thank you," Raven said, after a minute of confusion. She took the large bag in her arms. She couldn't think of anything that would explain how it felt, to have someone with such a strong, solid range of emotions. "Thank you very much."

"You still can do good things, yes? Things no one else would dream of doing. If you need more coffee, come visit. Any customers scared away by one red-card are just jealous, and too ready to be afraid."

It was one of the few civil conversations she had been involved in that week, and one of the only nice reactions to just what she was, Raven reflected as she made her way down the sidewalk. She could have teleported to her apartment, but that took just about as much energy. She would use the time walking to look for any complex renting out apartments- her current lease was about to expire, and a nervous landlord would very much like for her to leave.

Maybe the harbor district would have openings. She found a free real estate listing in front of a deli, then smiled and shook her head when the cashier tried to drum up some business. He looked at the bag in her arms and sighed. She shrugged, and decided that she just might go back there for lunch sometime. She liked silent conversations. They didn't require people staring. Scattered sunlight glinting off storefronts made her sunglasses commonplace, and there had been a help wanted sign in the diner. Her day was looking up.

Green arced in front of her. Acting on instinct, she threw up a shield and watched the sidewalk in front of her crack. _You just had to think it, didn't you? _She should have known better. Positive thoughts only would make things go worse. Bad things came in threes, according to an old superstition. The officer in the coffee shop, some sort of green laser in the sidewalk She still had room for the last of the trinity. Raven wondered if a headache counted. She tried to suppress empathy, living in a city, but the source of the green was radiating anger and confusion.

She regretfully set her paper bag down, very aware that things could get messy if people would be throwing around lasers of some sort. She was airborne the next instant, to get a view of the very odd fight past a row of cars parked at the meter. It was the Drake guy. Again. This time, he was fighting a woman with orange skin who was still blasting green from her eyes whenever he tried to approach. The woman's aim was horrible unless she had meant to hit that lamppost, or unless didn't want to kill the officer.

Raven didn't take any time to think about it. If she did, wondering just how thick-skulled the police officer was might make her regret what she would do for just half a moment. She caught the lamppost before it could make a direct collision course with the officer's head. "Drake!" she yelled. He had already noticed what she had done. A lamppost wreathed in black hovering over his head was a pretty good clue. "I have your back."

"Thanks," he said, attention already elsewhere.

Raven set the lamppost on the sidewalk. Something wasn't right about those emotions. "What is she? She's not human." She kept back. As long as Drake stayed where he was, the woman stared at him. "Don't," Raven snapped when he took a step. "She's not attacking. Is there a warrant out for her?"

"She's an alien, we think. Something just crash-landed out near the bay, and she came out of it and went on a rampage."

"She's confused and scared. If you don't spook her, she won't be violent." Raven had spent years getting used to just what she could do, ever since she had left Azarath. She could understand one confused alien. "You can't solve all problems with fighting, Drake."

Raven watched the alien. It certainly fit that she wasn't from earth, with emotions that different. "Drake, try making some show of peace. Relax your body language."

He tried. It seemed foolish, at best, to approach an alien peacefully after watching her destroy a good part of a city block, but he did have a half-demon at his back. From what he remembered, she had many more tricks than the telekinesis with the lamppost. He held his hands in what he hoped was a universal gesture of peace. When he wasn't vaporized, he assumed that was good. When she stopped hovering six feet in the air and touched down two feet in front of him, he knew it was good- and that he had no idea what to do.

"Are you any good at picking locks?"

He didn't know who the woman from the coffee shop was, but maybe this was what Jinx had doubted. Here they were, a human and a meta working together. "You think I should get her arms out of whatever's on her?"

"It certainly would be a peaceful gesture."

He had a few lock picks, for the less official circumstances anyone involved in the MJD quickly found out about. He stepped forward carefully, and something made the alien woman stay there. The lock was easier than it looked, but still took a few seconds. He didn't notice the odd metal falling to the ground. The alien made sure of that.

A few seconds later, his brain caught on. She was _kissing _him. _She _was kissing _him_ and she still wasn't done. He wasn't sure exactly when she pulled away, but it was after he decided that it might not be such a bad idea to cooperate a bit. As a peaceful gesture, of course.

She pulled back and looked at him. Her eyes weren't glowing, however bright they still were. "Who are you?"

_She speaks English? _"Officer Tim Drake, but I go by Tim." He didn't worry about formality. It seemed odd to be at all worried about etiquette when he was talking to an alien.

"I am Koriand'r."

She was beautiful, and so was her name, but he doubted that he could ever pronounce it. "Is there any chance you would repeat that?"

"Starfire, in your language," she said after thinking for a moment. "My name is Tamaranean, which may be difficult for one unused to the language. Those chasing me are the Gordanians. I have been here before. Last time, they were successful in finding me again. This time, I will be able to fight them. Thank you."

"Don't take off," he said quickly, when she shot up a few feet. "I can help you."

"You can?"

"I help with anything in this city involving metahumans, and a few things that don't. If you give me two minutes, I can have a partner of mine on the scene." Tim might not know Victor well, but he knew that Victor could fight if he liked the cause.

"That would be delightful!"

Raven looked between the joyous alien and the police officer calling someone called Victor on his radio. From what she heard, 'Victor' would be there in two minutes. Until then, Starfire could certainly take care of herself. "Good luck with the Gordanians, Koriand'r," Raven said, to be polite. "Good day, officer Drake." She tried not to look at all disconsolate when she saw that a fire hydrant had been hit during the brief fight, while she was holding the lamppost. The paper bag was soaked through. There was no way she could carry it.

She prodded at the paper with her foot. Plastic-wrapped packages remained stacked in sealed plastic sandwich bags even when the saturated paper tore. She started to balance them when the man from the deli was at her side. He coughed discreetly instead of touching her, which she appreciated, and then held out a thick paper bag with handles and a fresh paper of apartment listings.

"Thank you," she said, wondering how much luck she was using up in one day. With recent history, it was enough for at least a month. She used telekinesis to move the packages. If he had seen her moving lampposts, he wouldn't be entirely surprised.

"My pleasure, miss," he said. "I saw what you did from the window. Anytime you're in the area and would like a bite to eat, the meal's on me. Least I can do for a hero, after all. I know you saved that cop."

She kept back thoughts that he wouldn't be so kind if he knew what she really was. She had no reason to doubt him. "Thank you again. I'll keep it in mind." She probably would stop by, if only to go somewhere she could be openly metahuman.

She was walking away when someone tapped her on the shoulder. She turned on her heel, and wasn't entirely surprised to see the cop. This time, there was another cop. This one had dark skin and biceps that might end up bigger than his brain.

"Drake, there is a limit on my patience. I was holding a lamppost in the air. I've not been having a good day, and I would like to go home and meditate before the nice man in the deli sees what an irritated demon can do." She was half-demon, and they all knew it, but wasn't at all in the mood to debate semantics.

"He called you a hero. Would you have enough patience to help us out?"

She took off the sunglasses. Purple eyes weren't that much of a threat, even if they weren't natural. "You want me to join the partly-meta musketeers? No thanks. Anything this far from Dumas won't touch on the classic." She didn't blink when a hologram flickered away. So, the cop was mostly metal. The biceps the hologram put under the uniform looked accurate, so that said something about him. "Mostly-meta musketeers. Pass."

"Thank you for your earlier help," Starfire said.

"Would you give it a chance?"

Raven looked between the three of them. The alien reeked of nice, Robocop looked like he might be friendly if he wasn't uncomfortable with people staring, and Drake just looked like someone she would like to throw. The alien would catch him. "I'll give you one chance. Just you, Drake. Three questions. You get them all right, I join your team for the day. Deal?"

"Deal." Tim knew that the questions might be impossible, but she was calling all of the shots.

"Name a few things I do that you can't."

Drake paused for a second. She was serious. That one was easy enough. "Telekinesis, some form of teleportation, time manipulation, and astral projection."

"Correct. Why can I do these things?"

Now he wasn't sure. "It does have something to do with your parentage?"

"A polite way of saying I'm a half-demon raised in another dimension, I suppose. Last question: what is my name?" she asked, picking up her bag. She expected the stunned pause while he tried to remember something he hadn't learned. "Good day, Officer Drake, Koriand'r, and other officer." She wasn't staying around for introductions.

Tim was about to ask for a hint when she was gone, demonstrating teleportation for the first time in weeks.

"She got you on that," Victor said. "That's not the part of her file people go to. I've been keeping an eye on her, to make sure that no one decides to prove their tough and goes near entrapment to catch her doing something illegal, not that she has. Raven catches a lot of grief, but I have reports I've been watching. She's the one who healed that woman after the slashing in the park. Alicia Prewitt would have died, but Raven was there."

"I didn't look at her card long. I just wanted to see any of the counterfeit signs, and those are usually most obvious on the part that lists the powers." Tim wished that he didn't feel like he should go on an intensive search for clues under a rock.

"Not your fault," Victor said. Tim was a good guy, but he still was working on social interaction. Victor wasn't sure where Tim had learned to deal with people, but he needed that kind of crash course. "Starfire, would your Gordanians be the aliens who crash-landed in the park?"

"I believe they would be the aliens you seek."

"They're wanted on several counts of destruction. Once you help us and someone gets a few camera shots, we won't even have to take you into the station," Victor said.

"Cameras shoot?"

Tim had the feeling that explaining colloquial language could take awhile. "We'll explain later. Let's go."

Much later, when a few Gordanians were in custody and Victor and Starfire were examining whatever metal had kept her strength in check, Tim stared at a crack in his office's wall. It was a favorite spot of his, for a place to look while mulling something over. He, Victor, and Starfire had worked very well together. The only injuries had been on the Gordanians' side. Maybe, if Jump City had a team of metahuman responders, they could keep track of the many powered villains in the area. He remembered what the suspected criminal ringleader (_Jinx, _he reminded himself) had said. Maybe, if he proved her wrong, he would have a shot at negotiation. First, though, he would need a team.

Maybe, he could call a veteran around their age. Tim remembered reading an article two weeks ago. The Doom Patrol (based in Rhode Island, if he remembered correctly) had disbanded, and one of the members was just a year younger than he was. Victor was firepower, and could handle all technology they would need. Starfire was aerial firepower, and just might be stronger than Victor. After his Gotham years, as he called them now, he could somewhat keep up with them. He would train until he was back in full shape. Raven, if she would join, could attack from a distance, and Victor would better be able to keep an eye on her. (Why hadn't Tim thought to watch after the more infamous metas in the area? He would have to ask Victor if he would welcome any help.)

If he could convince this person… maybe Raven would follow. Starfire had agreed. Victor had said 'maybe,' which was much better than no.

Tim didn't cross his fingers as he dialed the phone. This would need more than a pair of crossed fingers. The phone was picked up halfway through the third ring. Tim flashed through his practiced speech in an instant, and crossed two sets of fingers. He would have one chance to arrange an interview. "Hello, have I reached Garfield Logan?"


	2. CHAPTER TWO

_The Teen Titans, Cliff Notes, various comic book characters, ideas and characters from movies mentioned, and Jump City don't belong to me._

**CHAPTER TWO**  
Garfield Logan held up a hand, frustrated. "Wait a second. Why do you want me to go along on the job? This isn't official, I know, but I've never even heard of the lady."

"Tim didn't have time to give you the whole story, about the team and the two of you were getting on each other's nerves a bit," Victor said tactfully. "He really is trying to work on personal skills. He has something big back in New York."

"Don't we all. I just left most of my mess in Rhode Island. I don't like cops. Drake might not be all that bad, but he's a cop."

"Didn't you have to work with cops when you worked with the Doom Patrol?" Victor took an envelope off of his desk, all he needed from his office. He could have called up the image of the letter, he supposed, but he would rather look at the real thing and have something to show Logan.

"Right now, there's a fourteen-story high-rise between me and getting along with the police," Logan said curtly.

"Drake would have been one of those people crazy enough to go into that fire, and I would have been with him." Victor paused before getting into his car. "I'm sorry that it went down that way. It's dangerous, but at least today we're just helping someone out. I asked you to come along on this little situation so you could meet another potential teammate. I didn't mean for all the other business to come up- it'll never be long enough, but a month is way too short."

"That works a hell of a lot better than what I usually get," Logan said. Victor wasn't bad at all, really- he did feel bad about the bouncer comment now, but what had they expected? There had been twig-boy the cop and someone who would actually be a threat in a one-on-one fight. Not many animals did well against laser cannons.

"I am sorry that it happened, but I'm pretty sure that you don't need to hear that." What was there to say? Rita Farr had gone into a burning apartment complex, and hadn't come out.

"It's the thought behind it that counts, right?" Logan looked at the few cars in the parking garage. They both were ready for a new topic. "Wait, let me guess. I think I can figure out which one is yours."

"Oh?"

"Drake called the thing your baby, so the poor blue car that should have been put out to pasture with the rust stains isn't it. The hulking SUV... really hope that's not yours, actually, if the bumper's two minutes from falling off. We can rule out the unmarked police cars. Just who do they think they're fooling? No one else would own a beige Crown Vic. That leaves the little silver number, which does look vaguely feminine enough to be your girlfriend. Everything else today is a bad sci-fi movie, why not that?"

"A bad sci-fi movie could never afford my baby."

Logan shrugged. "A half-robot and a green guy who changes into animals walk into a cop's office, there's a pitch about some superheroic team, and the cop already has managed to kiss the alien. A tabloid near where I lived picked that much up."

"She was learning the language," Victor said, not even trying for a straight face. "Starfire did speak English, after she kissed him, but I doubt he's going to live that impromptu run to first base down."

Logan gave the car a skeptical look as he reached for a seatbelt. He didn't see anything extraordinary in the little car. It could probably seat five, if the five people happened to like each other. And hygiene. "What did happen, before Drake had the idea?"

"I'll give you the Cliff's Notes version. Drake tried to talk a usual suspect into a little corroborating testimony. She turned him down- metas can't trust white-cards, generally. Later, Starfire crash landed and caused a bit of havoc. She hit a lamppost with a few eyebeams. If Raven hadn't caught it, Drake wouldn't be around. After that mess, Drake pitched the idea of Raven working with us. She tricked him into agreeing to a test... then asked her name."

"He didn't have time to learn it?"

"Right in one," Victor said. "I'm going to offer the idea one more time after we take care of the current disturbance of the peace- a DOP, in station-jabber. This isn't on the books. If it was, we could prosecute the landlord for not holding to ordinance. Because of the Metahuman Acts, there can be laws that apply only to metas. Metas here only need a two-day eviction notice. She technically has until two o'clock today, the landlord started hassling her at noon."

"Who called in the DOP?"

"A neighbor sympathetic to the tenant. She said that Mr. Riggs was causing a ruckus. Riggs is the landlord for the apartments. The caller didn't think very highly of him, if calling him a cockroach was any hint."

"Cockroaches deserve more respect. Anything that can survive nuclear fallout deserves a little kudos, you know?"

"I really hope you don't know that from experience," Victor said.

"That's research. The Doom Patrol never had to deal with anyone nutty enough to make that threat, at least."

"You went by Beast Boy on the DP, right?"

"Right," he said a little shortly as Victor pulled out of the parking garage. "Went by Garfield out of uniform, if you can believe that," he said after a moment, partially to apologize, mostly because it was hard to find somebody to talk to. "Now- well, both of my names are famous past me, but even a fictional hairy Canadian with temper issues is better than an orange cat obsessed with lasagna."

"So, given the choice- an actual wolverine, or the guy with blue and yellow spandex?"

"Depends on if there are cigars involved. I don't know how he can deal with those things. He's not the only one with enhanced senses, you know?" Logan grimaced at the memory.

"You're changing the outfit, too?"

"Yeah. I had an order in before the Doom Patrol fell apart, and my contact does not cancel appointments. The woman doing the work doesn't come up to my waist, but she's almost scarier than Batman when he thinks some criminal of his is hiding in your city."

"If you're going to have the outfit... you think you could consider another team? I've heard that you and the last leader didn't get along, but think of it this way: everyone here is about the same age. Starfire is one of the most genuinely nice people I've ever met, and only seems dangerous when she's cooking. Tim thinks that his garbage growled at him after she left."

"I might," Logan allowed. "No decisions yet. I'm still not convinced that Drake won't get himself hurt out in the field."

"He's the only cop in the precinct to never have an inpatient stay in the hospital. He hasn't told anyone but the chief where he trained, and the chief was pretty damn impressed."

"Let me guess. He doesn't impress easy."

"That's his job. He works for the meta department, and he's in charge of keeping a few slippery characters in custody."

"I know how that goes- we had a few criminals who thought that life would be better outside of Gotham. We saw all kinds, there."

"Not to rain on your parade, but we have a few unique characters here. Raven's one of them. As far as we know, there isn't anyone else like her." He parked, taking his time. It didn't matter how well his car maneuvered. Victor still hated parallel parking. "I keep track of a few people in town- the ones most likely to run into trouble." He paused, wondering if there was a good way to put a few facts.

"She's special, huh? I can sympathize with that."

"Yeah, I think we both can. She doesn't have much of a temper, from what I've heard, but once it sets off, it's something you don't want to see."

"I dealt with Mento for a month after Rita died."

"True. I don't know what she's going to think when we show up, so don't take offense if she doesn't welcome her knights in shining armor."

Logan rolled his eyes. "You're in shining armor. I'm green."

Victor wasn't going to get started with that. "Tough. If Kermit can manage, so can you."

Logan shrugged off the comment with no sign of temper. "Is this her apartment, tin can? We can continue this later, if you're man enough to settle this the right way."

"How's that, grass stain?"

"Pick your poison on GameStation 3, if they sell that in your backwards town."

"Melee 4, if they even sell that in Rhode Island. You have no room to call my town backwards, coming from a place called Happy Harbor."

Logan winced. "That was just harsh, you know that? Really, really harsh. Besides. Jump City, California, is only slightly better than Happy Harbor, Rhode Island."

"I had to make a comment at least once. How about we just consider it done? That is a bit low."

"Deal. You're not bad, for a glorified can opener."

"And you're pretty good for a-" Victor was going to finish with walking green-screen, but the shattering of a window distracted him almost as much as the portly man currently unhappy with his role as a stuntman. Victor caught the man on instinct, after Logan was nice enough to slow the velocity. Logan did that by getting knocked over, but that was a side detail.

"What the hell was that?" Logan demanded.

"Defenestration."

He righted himself, and didn't pay attention to Victor's attempts to set the man on his feet. He was looking at the lady in the window. Cloudy day, sunglasses. Considering that they were in California, that wasn't too strange. Sounding bored after being the cause for an unintended flight? Weird. "And what the hell does that mean?"

"It's the act of throwing someone out of a window," she said, just as calmly. "I realize that I am on the ground floor, however, so I gave him a touch more forward trajectory so he would be far away. I do have twenty-eight minutes left," she said, glancing at her watch. "Twenty-seven now, I suppose."

"Why did you resort to defenestration? It seems a shame to involve the window."

"It was due for replacement a year ago. I was doing him a favor. I even shattered it before he hit it." Black surrounded every fragment of glass and lifted them. He watched as she gathered every last piece inside, presumably into a garbage bin. "You aren't nervous."

"You just put all the sharp stuff away. I've known enough telepaths to know that picking up a bunch of pieces and moving them all to the same place is hard work. If you're going to put that much work into cleaning up what's a thrown man between potential teammates? Victor's trying to sucker me into the idea, and the cop isn't all that bad."

"Just when I thought my day couldn't get any better." Even as she said it, she watched the landlord walk away stiffly. She had planned to catch him, before he hit the ground. She just wasn't sure if that would have worked. "I would invite you in, but everything is packed." She flicked her hand negligently, and the trunk of her car opened. The small hatchback had seen better days a couple decades ago, but it still worked. It needed a few touches of TK to open the rusting locks, but that was no problem. She could have moved her four boxes without any hand motions, but it was her version of etiquette. If people could pretend they recognized a cause, they wouldn't be as jumpy.

"Where are you staying?"

"Nowhere, within the next half hour. I'll take my car, and head back to a deli I saw a few days ago. As far as I am concerned, finding that man was the only good thing about the day I met Officer Drake. The owner offered me a job, and I might take him up on it."

"I'd recommend thinking over joining the team, personally, even if you have no intention. For the next week or so, the city will put you up in a very, very nice hotel. You can stock up on those little shampoo things or whatever you want to do, spend the entire time searching for an apartment or have a look at the blueprints the city's drawing up. Drake gave me the rundown on that. You could get a room built to your specifications. Private apartments, no landlords, the building signed over with just a few requirements... all up for debate."

"Who turned you into the recruiter?"

"It's all Victor's fault," Logan said, ignoring a mock-glare. "What do you say? Want to give an alien, half-robot, one-man circus, and a cop a chance?"

"Not particularly."

"Do you have anything more solid?"

She drew in a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then slowly released it before rubbing where the bridge of her nose met her forehead. She could feel he_r _chakra just above her fingers, even through the thin fringe of hair she had grown out. "You are trying to persuade me of something. Before you try again, perhaps you could get a few facts of life from your friend. I am not a team player."

"And how would talking to Victor change that perception?"

He watched her take off her sunglasses. She used both hands, but not to protect knockoff designer sunglasses she dropped into her purse. One hand brushed back long bangs to show the gem the center of her forehead. "He could explain a few key facts. This isn't the day for an impromptu biology lesson."

"Tell me something you do have time for, then. We still have twenty-five minutes."

"Never interrupt a girl dying her hair. I know that Mr. Riggs will have no luck getting the black stain out of the bathroom sink."

"What color is your hair normally?"

Why had she mentioned that? "Purple."

"No need to sound testy about it. I'm monochrome. At least you have a different color skin going on, right?"

"I am not interested in your team. I even have a no soliciting notice by the number. I doubt calling the moron of a landlord would do any good, but I do have the legal right for the next twenty or so minutes."

"Ever been on a team before?" Victor asked.

"No." She met his gaze calmly, not caring that one eye was red and electronic. "I'm sure that you've heard why I'm listed as especially dangerous."

Logan hadn't, but he ignored the unasked question. If she wanted an answer, she could ask. "You don't buy the usual myths about civic duty. You're a danger to a traditional, productive society," Logan said. "I've never held an actual job. Even when I was little... but that was different," he said, stopping that topic quickly. "I've done a team before. If- and I still mean if, so don't start, Victor- I was doing this again, I'd go with people about my age. Equals, not parent surrogates." He paused, gathering stray emotions. "Rita was great, though, so I'm glad I had them. "If there still was a hesitation on Rita's name, no one mentioned it. "Maybe I could use a few friends on a team. We all can cover for Drake."

"You may be the Three Musketeers and their press agent," Raven said calmly, "but I don't know why you feel that I need to be recruited."

"You don't want to belong?" Victor asked. "To be part of a group? We could try understanding. How many times would we get that chance? Half-humans have to talk, sometimes."

"Half human?" Logan was through with references he couldn't understand. "Just for the record? I'm human, just a weird variety."

"My mother was human," Raven said. "Victor, I know you are half-human now- but at least your parents were somewhat normal." Thinking of her mother, she deliberately made her expression neutral. She was not angry, or bitter. "My mother started out that way. Then, she had me." So much for that- she was bitter, but the two uninvited visitors would leave soon enough.

"What was she like?" Logan asked. He had lost two mothers, and maybe he had some idea about what to say.

"I've only heard stories about before. After- cold. Distant. I'm sure you have heard, Victor, why she was not pleased to have me."

"That wouldn't matter, Raven. Just between Logan and me, we probably could keep a talk show in business for a season and a half. Any press looking for information about the Prewitt story wouldn't get near the island."

"I healed her. That's the entire story."

"We know that," Victor said. "No one on the team would drag something like that out."

"I do not want to join your team," she said, voice slipping into the precise tones that meant she was angry. "Would you like me to say that in another language? I'm not interested."

"Will you give a reason?"

"No." Her left hand curled into a fist, until her hand was sore. He shouldn't push her. It wasn't fair, to offer friends and what could be a home. It wouldn't work. It couldn't. She remembered what her mother had said to her one of the last times they had spoken, when yet again Raven had been denied a visa. It was better this way, then. There's always a reason. She turned away and closed her eyes, as if the thin layer of skin in her eyelids would stop her anger.

"But you want to. Otherwise, you'd have just chucked us out of your apartment."

"You don't know what I want." She turned to face him, snapping with a movement too fast for human eyes to follow, and glared with all four eyes.

Logan didn't do a double take. He just paused for a moment. Besides the fact that he had never heard a voice that cold, the four red eyes were a surprise. "No, I don't. I'm just pretty good at guessing." He paused, watching the red eyes close. Two violet eyes opened. "The eyes are the reason for the aviator sunglasses, then?"

She wanted to put them on, to hide- but maybe they would just leave. "Yes. People tend to start expecting a matching pair of horns, which aren't in style this year for hellish fashions." She frowned a little when he only looked confused. The other man understood the reference; he looked uncomfortable. "Glowing red marks still are 'in,' however," she continued, just to see if the green man had heard.

"I don't follow fashion trends, even before you get to the land Australia could call down under," Logan said.

"He doesn't know," she told Victor. "Would you like to explain to your partner in crime?" She took her sunglasses out of her purse, out of habit. They already had seen her eyes, but she still was waiting for the usual reaction.

"That's your business, Ms. Roth," he said.

Fine. He didn't want to be the bad guy. "Do not call me that," she said, as adamantly as one could while speaking in a bored monotone. "That was my mother's surname. If her family will not admit that I exist, I will leave it for official paperwork. She named me Raven."

Logan wasn't about to admit that he was curious. "You keep saying you're half-human. You want to get this over with, since I'm the only person here without a clue?"

"I'm half-demon."

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He was in his twenties, now, and the classic mark of teenage disdain didn't have the same effect. Instead, he opted for a skeptical look. "We've built up this much for that? I've been here long enough to see you not open any mystical chutes to hell when you were irritated and that you were aiming the landlord at a shrub. It was a thorny shrub, maybe, but that's better than concrete. With all the leadup I was prepared for at least a revelation that you're the new antichrist. Your bills at fast-food places probably don't even come to 6.66."

"I don't eat at any place that advertises its food to be fast."

"You even eat healthy," he said. "If you want me to be properly terrified and or intimidated, I might be able to work up something by pretending that you're one of the few fans I have. One of them broke into my room. Until you come up with something scarier, I'll try blocking images of fangirls from my worst nightmares. I've been in the save-humans, kick-butt occupation a little too long for a detail like that to scream 'Danger, Will Robinson' for me."

"You are an extremely odd man, Mr. Logan, even considering the company you keep."

"Just Logan," he said. "I'm not that old." He stage-whispered to Victor, after a furtive look at Raven. "She called me a man. I think I like California."

She looked at him curiously. If he knew that she could hear him, why would he feign whispering? "You merit a new superlative, Logan. 'Strangest' just is not strong enough."

He bowed, a very elaborate gesture. Victor had the idea that it was actually the right way to bow. "Where the heck did you come from, Logan?"

"Happy Harbor, Rhode Island. Really wish that I was making that up." Victor knew, but maybe he was going for the rhetorical- or giving Raven something to use.

"All that and his first name's Garfield."

Raven wondered if that was a smile, tugging at the corner of her mouth. Someone would have to exploit such facts correctly, and perhaps Victor would need help. "Which hotel are you putting the lost souls up in? I'll stay until I can find a new apartment."

A week later, after five days of not even remembering to crack open the residential section, Logan was the one to tell Drake they had a team.


	3. CHAPTER THREE

_I do not own Disney's _Hercules _or the Titans. As a warning- I will be participating in National Novel Writing Month. Expect chapter four in December. Leave a review to let me know what you think. Thanks for this chapter go to Orange, for defeating the evil writer's block and giving me the perfect noun.  
_

**CHAPTER THREE  
**Robots don't get headaches.

Maybe if Victor repeated that often enough, he would begin to believe it.

First, a politician had come up to his door. She had been nice enough, he supposed, with her good handshake, quick speech, and very frank answers to his questions. Unfortunately, she was appealing to the wider voter body and taking an anti-metahuman stance. He hadn't slammed the door on her face. He had just shut the door slowly enough that she had time to get out of the way.

That was the first problem. After that, Tim had called about what the order was for Chinese takeout, since he was picking it up. Something wasn't completely right there, so Victor had asked, straight out, what was wrong. It took something big to make Tim nervous, after all.

Tim had done something MJD cops would call stupid. Tim hadn't wanted to take Starfire to the mall. He was still negotiating a cover story with some people he knew in Gotham. A few days after the team formed, Tim Drake was going to fly to Gotham. Tim needed details in case anyone followed up on him, so he had suggested that someone else accompany Starfire to the mall of shopping.

Victor had been home sick. Really, he was sick of dealing with the reporters that kept sending him e-mails, but he did have a few upgrades that he would be happier making from his own apartment. It just felt wrong when someone walked in when he had an exposed circuit. At his apartment, he only had the occasional politician by asking his opinion on 'issues that matter to voters.' He had a red card, and about ninety-five percent of his skin was covered in metal. He wasn't exactly in the majority. He could figure out the exact percentage, but what was the point? It wouldn't distract from his headache.

He could try a new system an engineer with a medical degree had helped him install. With a thought based through an algorithm, he could release specifically calibrated doses of aspirin, straight into his bloodstream. Victor wasn't sure about whatever interference he could probably run with prostoglandin production. If he could do that, he wouldn't need aspirin to inhibit the sensitivity of nociceptors. He was an odd case, and his doctor practically salivated every time there was some new addition to make on the chart.

The doctor was out for a Nobel, or at least a faculty award. Victor hadn't seen the need for a self-medication loop, or to stop his brain from producing the compounds that lessened his pain threshold. Now, however, his headache was growing exponentially. The last thing he needed was to track the pain against time, even if he could run a regression to ninety-nine digits on the automatic mode to conserve memory.

It should have been easy. Tim could have offered to take Starfire on his day off but the idea of going with someone else had already stuck with Starfire, who was the most enthusiastic in making friends. She had asked Victor, but he was making repairs. He would have done it, but he was halfway through wiring something new into an internal circuit. Logan's excuse was that he didn't have a car, and that cabs didn't run out to the Jump City mall often.

That left one person.

Raven had agreed, which surprised everyone. Victor supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised. He didn't know her well enough to guess whether or not she would go to the mall. The five of them had been flirting with the idea of a team for three weeks, and he knew three of his teammates pretty well.

Logan was a cynic, jokester, and hothead. He liked video games, banter of any kind, and vegetarian cuisine. He had just lost a mother. Any attempts to talk about that resulted in a stony silence. Victor understood needing time, and could see why someone who could become livestock might not want to eat meat. He didn't run into a similar problem; not many varieties of cuisine contained metal.

He couldn't quite understand why it had taken so long to become friends with Tim. Sure, Tim could be a bit obsessive, but it wasn't nearly as bad as a few years before. When Victor had been put on the district's payroll, the kid had been fresh off his rookie's training wheels. Tim had breathed one case for months-some drawn-out saga with one metahuman that had taken government super-steroids long, long ago. Victor had been too new to the precinct, and Tim too old. By then, no one dropped a name and Victor had never gone looking.

Starfire was an alien, but she was the easiest to understand. She wasn't likely to pick up any colloquialism, she was a morning person that didn't have a thing against afternoons or evenings, and she only had a temper when provoked far enough. She ate bizarre food that looked toxic, laughed at jokes she didn't completely understand, and was the only person (alien?) in the group that talked to Raven without long periods of silence or fights.

Raven had taken Starfire shopping, then had shown up at his door. His apartment was on the first floor, which made carrying Starfire's purchases easier. Not much help was needed. Starfire carried as many bags as she could hold. The rest trailed behind her, suspected by bands of black energy. Raven had given the (true) excuse of picking up Logan from the hotel so he wouldn't need to take a cab, and had left him with Starfire.

He liked Starfire, he really did. She just could be a whole lot of optimism in one dose. After quite a bit of consideration, she picked the outfit that she would wear for dinner. She had started wearing Earthly fashions, as she called them. Victor had volunteered the spare room not full of electronics, and she had not contributed to any part of the developing headache.

That had started when he heard a car's motor die down, and then two slamming car doors. After that, the buzzer at front had been jabbed with more force than absolutely necessary, and Raven had been the one to tersely announce that she was back. He didn't know what Raven and Logan had found to fight about that time, but was sure that he would find out. In detail. Lots of detail.

After Raven managed to slam the heavy, slow-moving front door, Logan apparently needed to reassert his irritation by knocking on Victor's apartment door. Loudly. Victor would have to check later if there were any dents. His landlady was a very nice woman, but she did not approve of visitors knocking holes into doors. Neither did he, for that matter, but some days things like that just happened.

He barely had time for the two of them to finish staring each other down before Starfire emerged in a new outfit. This time, she had the basics down. He supposed that Raven had been able to help, with that, not that it was hard to put together jeans and a t-shirt. It was when the fastenings of dresses started getting complicated that Tim started turning red. Victor didn't know how long the two of them were going to play coy about whatever was going on. Iif something was going on. That headache could be blamed on Tim, however. Starfire was straightforward.

Starfire had asked Victor if she could learn French from him. She remembered that he had taken two years of the language. He warned her that it was just an elementary grasp, but she had still wanted to know. He supposed that it was odd for a guy to not be very comfortable with the idea of kissing a teammate, but she had taken his hand, and smiled at him few seconds later.

_Vous avez appris le français? _he asked, trying to guess why she was smiling.  
You learned French?

_Oui.  
_Yes.

He pointed out that she had kissed Timothy, mostly out of surprise. The look she had gave him... she was a complete and total imp when she wanted to be. "I wanted to kiss Timothy. Would you like me to kiss you?" He had laughed, as rude as it sounded, and she had giggled, and it all had been fine.

He could get along with Starfire. He and Tim were getting to be friends. He didn't understand Raven much, but they could talk. He and Logan were friends when Logan wasn't spouting off about something. The problem was that Starfire and Tim got along, but Tim and Raven were at odds for the moment, and Logan and Raven seemed to have some sort of perpetual competition to see who had the shorter fuse.

Evidently, Logan had won for the day, and Raven was quickly honing in on his lead with a barrage of verbal attacks.

Victor only had been able to gather something about a hatchback deathtrap and a shape-changing worrywart when Starfire walked out of the back room and Tim rang at the front. Starfire looked disapprovingly at the fight, and was about to interfere when Tim walked in the door, with Chinese takeout.

Aspirin sounded more attractive by the moment when Raven began very calmly pointing out all the problems she perceived with Tim and Logan. She had yet to raise her voice, but she could talk pretty fast when she was angry. Victor was sure that he could break a microchip cross-referencing her many remarks, criticisms, and threats, even before he factored in listening to Tim defend his actions, Logan attack her driving, and Raven maligning Tim's decision and Logan's tolerance for bad traffic.

"Victor, is Raven truly displeased that she accompanied me to the mall of shopping?" Starfire asked quietly.

That was the last straw. He had a developing headache, he wasn't supposed to have one, the Chinese abandoned on his coffee table would start to get cold, he still didn't know what was going on, and Starfire's feelings were hurt. It took a nanosecond for him to secure several noise-reducing modifications he had added, for when he needed louder tools. His neighbors didn't need to hear it. The three quarrelers did.

"All of you, shut up!" he roared, using the advantage of mechanical lungs and air intake ports. That did shut the three of them up, mid-word. Victor didn't lose his temper often. He pressed his advantage.

"Logan, what is your problem? She gave you a ride. You're in one piece." A firm glare directed at Raven and Tim showed that other contributions would not be welcomed.

Logan was unimpressed. "Her car is about two miles on the odometer from falling apart and lurches like it's inebriated. Then you add in her driving. She almost scraped the paint off the six cars and an overpass."

"Raven, where did you learn to drive?" Victor knew enough of her past to guess, but some things just had to be shared.

"Gotham. My mother is from Gotham, so I started there first. I learned how to drive from a cabbie that let me put it on the meter."

Victor glared at Tim. He would get there in a minute. "Raven, your hatchback has a manual transmission?"

"Yes."

"Both of you, stop fighting. Raven drives like a New York cabbie and her car has a stick shift. Logan, if that bothers you, fly." He changed to the more important topic. Raven and Logan always bickered. A hurt Starfire was not the status quo. "Tim, why didn't you offer to just take Starfire tomorrow, on your day off?"

"She wanted to go today."

Victor eased up on the glare, just a little. "Raven, did you enjoy your time at the mall with Starfire?"

"Yes, but not being guilted into it. Being interrupted from meditation is not pleasant."

"There. All fixed." Victor wondered how they were going to be a team if they couldn't last ten minutes without a fight. "Now, you all are going to calm down or chill out or whatever you need to do, and we are all going to sit down like civilized metahumans and eat before all the food gets cold and we have to start this all over again. Clear?"

"Don't blow a circuit, we're fine," Logan said. He was used to tempers. He just wasn't used to the angry party staying logical. He opened the bag and glanced at the shorthand scrawled on the top of the white cardboard boxes. It wasn't too hard to figure out. "We have... triple delight for Vic, General Tso's chicken for Tim, sweet and sour, also chicken, for Raven, shrimp in hot chili sauce with pineapple and hot mustard- we know that's yours, Star- and sehezuan green beans for me."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Did you figure all that out by yourself?"

"Now, Raven, just because you'd need to go look it up in a book, that doesn't mean-"

"Friends, can we not quarrel? The vein at friend Cyborg's temple has begun to throb again."

Well, he learned something new every day. Cyborg's vein really had been pulsing.

Dinner lasted as a truce until Tim produced a list of potential names for the team. Raven and Logan were fighting, again. This time, it was who could come up with a more scathing reason that a name wouldn't work. Too long, too young, too stuffy, too fussy, too hard to say, too impossible to spell, been done, there is no way that she will appear with a team that has a mascot base for the name, too old-fashioned, and too much meaning behind the original.

Starfire amused herself by trying to find just how to say her fortune in French, and then tried to translate from French to the basic Japanese that Tim had learned for some martial art or other. Victor seemed to be thinking about something far, far away. Tim was systematically crushing his fortune cookie. Logan had eaten his while Raven explained her objections to a mascot. Raven's cookie was untouched.

Enough was enough. Tim glanced at the list. Three names hadn't been attacked by both of them. "What's wrong with these?"

"No patrol." Logan had enough of a named 'patrol.'

"There is no way that we're going to be 'something patriotic,'" Raven said vehemently.

"You both had a problem with Titans. That's the last one. At this rate- we'll just be that group, you know, the one with the argumentative team members."

"Did you look into mythological significance at all?" Raven asked. "The Titans were beaten. More specifically, they were fully defeated by the Olympians and locked in Tartarus for all eternity."

"Hades let them out, later," Logan said.

"No, he did not," she said in the very even tones that usually preceded a drawn-out argument. "You probably learned your mythology from a Disney film. Hades did not loose the Titans. Hera was not Hercules's mother. Hera, Zeus's older sister and wife, tried to kill Hercules at birth with snakes, according to most legends, because Zeus was a womanizing lecherous rake that slept with anyone to catch his eye, male or female."

"Holy- we can't even talk mythology without a lecture?" Logan paused. He was going at this wrong. For once, they were on the same side. "Let me get this straight. The only name that I didn't attack references a group of big scary badasses that got their asses beat by an incestuous manwhore?"

There was only one response to something like that, and it wasn't a headache. Victor laughed, and only half paid attention to Raven's feigned shock that Logan had used a four-syllable word, correctly, and Logan's snipe that he was just more succinct. "You know, I think that's the first time the two of them have agreed on something."

Tim shook his head, but he was smiling. Starfire didn't quite get it, but the expressions on Raven and Logan's faces were most amusing, as was Tim's toast. She still did not understand why a browned piece of bread meant to raise one's glass in tribute, but she enjoyed the custom.

"To concord," Tim said grandly.

"To concord," Victor repeated gravely. They tapped their glasses of water together. Starfire followed suit, very carefully. One incident of shattered glass was enough. Raven had caught most of the shards, and had healed Tim's hand, but it wasn't an experience that anyone wanted to repeat. Raven and Logan didn't touch glasses, but they did drink to the toast- so it still counted.

There was peace. It lasted twelve minutes. Victor didn't bother to move from the kitchen while everyone else found a place in his apartment to use for changing. He already was in his costume, after all.

"Done already, Logan?"

"I had the outfit under my civilian outfit. Old habits die hard, and it's the fastest way to break in a new costume. I'm not used to this kind of fabric, but the polymer whatever gives a little more protection than the old model."

"Different colors too, right?" Victor hadn't seen the Doom Patrol in the press often, but didn't remember purple and black amidst all the red and white.

"Right."

That conversation wasn't going anywhere. Victor changed topics. "Have you and Raven ever tried talking? I think that I hear you two fighting nine times in ten."

"We flew out to the east coast two weeks ago for uniforms and didn't kill each other." Logan shrugged. "Didn't hurt that I hate planes. They're impossible to get comfortable in, so I just waited until the seatbelt light went off, changed into a cat, and had a long nap. Cats can get comfortable anywhere."

"She didn't get bored? There aren't even in-flight movies anymore."

"She meditated. We ended up at a Thai place for dinner before the flight back, and we didn't end up fighting. She didn't talk much at all, during dinner. We flew back out of Gotham, to make a direct without a layover somewhere in Nebraska, and she kept looking over her shoulder. It was weird, which is pretty normal for her."

"Weird. Coming from the green guy that changes into a cat so he can sleep on a plane?" Victor asked. "That trick does sound convenient, though. I never have enough legroom." He turned when someone else entered the room.

"May I receive your opinions? I am unsure whether my costume is typical. It is Tamaranean garb, but your planet may have different standards." Starfire was done changing.

Logan was the one to answer. He saw more superheroes on the east coast, and had seen some pretty odd ensembles. Fingerless gloves of some sort, cut off shirt, miniskirt, thigh high boots... he'd seen less practical. "It's pretty normal, actually. Heroines usually try to leave room for flexibility. You can fly and fight in that, right?"

"Correct."

"Then you're just fine."

"It's best to not have loose clothes when you fight close-range," Raven said. She had heard far too many lectures while talking with the crazy designer. She might as well find some use for them.

"Friend Raven, why you do not wish to show your outfit?"

"This is part of my outfit. I'm not much of a close-range fighter." Raven was going to make use of her hard-won cloak.

"A cape is part of your Edna Mole-made outfit?" Logan asked skeptically. "She won't work with Batman and Superman because of their capes."

"It is a cloak, not a cape," Raven said shortly. "I would think that she does not want to work with Batman because he is a paranoid, distrustful control freak."

"Whoa, Raven- all that I've heard says that your assessment's probably right, but isn't that a little harsh?" Logan asked.

"I met him. Once."

"When you were living in Gotham?"

"If you could call it living," Raven said. "I stayed in a hotel for a few days and started considering apartments, and then-" She stopped.

"And then?" Logan prompted. This explained why she had kept looking around Gotham. He never had met Batman, and didn't want to.

Her eyes narrowed. Logan wasn't entirely sure how she made her typically perfect posture even more rigid, but she managed. "You're Robin," she said. She wasn't talking to Logan anymore. For once, her glare was focused on Tim.

Tim hadn't heard the conversation. He just knew that Raven had stopped as soon as he walked in the room, carrying his mask in his hand. "When I'm not Tim Drake."

"Why did you ask me to be on your team? Your mentor told me that I would be leaving 'his city.'"

"Batman is the reason I left Gotham. We started having a few disagreements about the metahuman legislation and whether or not he could do something about it as- well, when he wasn't Batman. Philosophical differences, to the extreme."

"I didn't want to stay in Gotham, but having a vigilante show up in my hotel room was not at all pleasant," she said.

Tim knew he shouldn't, but he grinned. "Let me guess. October, four years back?"

"How did you know that?"

"Only time I ever saw Batman with a bruise before he started patrol. What did you do?"

Raven shrugged uncomfortably. Tim didn't look angry. He looked amused. "He startled me. I've never heard anyone move that quietly, he started talking while I was meditating. The only objects moved were the telephone and alarm clock, but they made impact with his jaw. He sounded even less friendly while delivering his ultimatum."

"Raven, I promise I'm not like him."

"No, you're not," she said, after a few moments. She had guessed three weeks ago what her decision would be. Now, she knew. "Whenever we end up naming this team, I'm in."

"Do we have any suggestions for names?" Victor asked. "Besides personal names, that is. I'm not very creative. I'm going by Cyborg."

"Starfire."

"Raven."

"Robin."

"Changeling."

"Some kind of name using the initials wouldn't work," Tim said. "We have a bunch of consonants, and a tower shaped like a giant T."

"A giant T?"

"The contractors zoned out the island. Forty by sixty feet is steady enough to hold a foundation. To get the building up to the square footage the high-ups wanted, they expanded the top few floors- so it looks like a giant T."

"Is that why so many suggestions started with the letter?" Raven asked.

"Yes."

"Here we were, thinking you wanted us to be Tim's Tigers or whatever else you had but didn't put on that list," Logan said. "You know, Titans isn't all bad."

"Your earlier assessment didn't agree," Tim said mildly.

"Well, I'm looking at it again, and just think. We know how the old Titans went down. We can have anyone even close to Zeus's description in jail before he can look around and find some Europa or Ganymede he can't live without."

Raven frowned. Europa and Ganymede, after a comment about Disney? Her attention shifted to more important matters. For the first time she felt that emotion that meant belonging all around her, and knew what it meant to feel it herself.

"Let's do this the right way," Tim said. "If it's not unanimous, we'll find something that is- we have a week or two until the tower is finished, even with a few speedsters the city hired. Show of hands. Are we Titans?"

Five Titans raised their hands.


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

_I still don't own the Teen Titans. Updates will be slightly more regular, now that November (National Novel Writing Month, a very crazy time) is almost over._

**CHAPTER FOUR**  
"Logan." She knocked again. She knew he was awake.

"Raven, it's eleven o'clock. That's late, for most people. Didn't we have enough fun today with Tim playing personal trainer?"

"No. I want to talk, and I'd rather not talk to your door," she said. There wasn't anything wrong with standing in a hotel corridor when she would rather be asleep, perhaps, but she wasn't pleased with the situation.

"I'd rather not talk at all. What's your point?"

"There's no need to be nasty about it." She was not going to start a fight. "I will have the conversation from the door, if necessary. Tim explained what he expects from everyone on this team, and he mentioned a few of the main things that I do while fighting. Most things I don't use often. There aren't many times that I need levitation or telekinesis. Empathy is a bit different."

"I'm tired. I'm out of practice, and the combat simulation today was a lot to handle. Tim kept drilling things that needed speed and maneuverability. Smaller birds might be faster, but they burn a lot more energy."

"I'm an empath, Logan. It's hard to lie to me, and you're not tired. I don't mean to, but empathy is a sense. I can't just block out strong emotions. It would be like trying not to hear a fighter plane passing overhead."

"Thanks for the metaphysics lesson, Raven. I'm not lying to you. I'm tired."

"You're not going to go to sleep, Logan. You could talk to someone, you know," she said awkwardly. "You aren't the only one that lost somebody."

"I've lost three somebodies, okay? I'm sure you have a great soap opera background that could get you onto a daytime talk show. Save it for Jerry."

"I don't want to turn this into a competition," she said, feeling the old equilibrium slip back into place. Someone was offensive, someone was offended- she couldn't even tell which she was, anymore. "I just wanted to tell you that you could talk to someone. No one here has the same sob story or soap opera or whatever you would term it.

"Victor lost his mother in the accident that nearly killed him. I'm not sure how many light-years Starfire is from home. Tamaraneans use different measurements, and she's not sure about conversion factors. Of course, if you would rather stay by yourself with all those kinds of emotions... go ahead. None of my business, right?"

"Right. You have a pretty good speech, there. Did you practice on your way over to do a good deed for the day?"

"No." She wasn't angry. She would rather be angry. Anger was better than nothing at all. "Good night. I won't ask about it again." She wouldn't apologize for knocking. He had been hurting from grief badly enough that she understood that better than her own feelings.

He heard her go back to her room and close the door. She wasn't the only one with senses. Who did she think she was?

He wasn't going to turn that little talk into something about her. She just hadn't been fighting like she usually did. Maybe she had wanted to talk? She could have just asked. He wasn't going to think about it or mention it because it wasn't about her. He still didn't know what she had been up to, but it wasn't going to bother him.

"Let me get this straight," Victor said the next morning when Logan changed his mind. "You want to know what she was up to knocking on your door and asking if you wanted to talk. She interrupted you while you were brooding- let me finish, that's the word I chose and I think it would fit that situation- and hinted that you could talk to someone. What do you think she was up to?"

"It isn't like her," he said.

"Of course it isn't like her." Victor hadn't felt the urge to roll his eyes for a long time. As much as he would like to blame Raven for her inspirational eye-rolling the day before, he knew the immaturity was all his own. He idly wondered if a robotic eye was capable of rolling while he tried to find the way to phrase his next statement. "She tried reaching out to a teammate. That kind of stuff makes her nervous."

"Ouch. You're on her side?"

"I'm not on a side. Maybe she could have gone about it in a different way, maybe you could have reacted a bit differently. I'm just calling it like I hear it. According to Starfire, Raven was 'most quiet' this morning. The girls have been doing a bit of training of their own for the last few weeks. Earth gravity is messing with a few fighting tricks Star uses, she didn't want to go alone. That was Raven's excuse at first. Now, she doesn't bother with an excuse."

Logan didn't like where that was leading. "I know I overreacted, but come on, the setup could have used something. You don't just walk up to someone and tell them that you still miss your foster-mother."

"Don't be so hard on her, Logan. She tried. Do you have a better way?"

"No, but that's not the point."

"The point is that you want to blame Raven?" Victor asked. "I know I usually get to play Switzerland, but not this time. I'm not going all neutral for this issue. You were hurting, she's an empath, she tried to help. I don't think she's the one that should make nice."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Neither does Tim. He's been keeping something to himself since before I started working at the station, and it doesn't get any easier." Victor wondered if it would be rude to start opening his mail. "All I know is that Tim and Batman had quite a few philosophical disagreements before Tim came to Jump City."

"I don't think I'd work well with someone who agrees with any idea Batman has. I mean sure, Batman is a brilliant fighter, but he's not much of a people person."

"And you are?" Victor asked. He opened the letter to give Logan some time, and read it when Logan still didn't have an answer. "I know that the transition can be hard, but you and Tim are still at the grunt-and-point stage of communication. You and Raven are World War II and a half."

"We don't even rank as World War III?"

"That's not something you should aspire to, Logan. The last thing we need is more conflict." He held out the letter. "Here, just look at this. I get one of these every Wednesday, as regular as clockwork. Someone in this city finds at least two cases like this a week. Sometimes it's handwritten, sometimes it's a picture, sometimes it's newspaper clippings, a few times it was a police report copy nicked out of the jurisdiction."

"What kind of cases are these?" he asked, glancing at the brief story and a section of a police report.

"A lot of metas in this city have a hard time just because they have a red card to their name," Victor said. "A team? Maybe we could change something. So, with you and Raven... don't kill each other, right? You've both had rough times, and it's not a competition."

"That's what she said. She knew about you and Starfire, too- how you lost somebody." He frowned, remembering. "She didn't mention anything about her family, but that would have to be something."

"She doesn't know if she lost her mother," Victor said. "The two of them never were close, and they lost contact when her mother came to earth. Then, there's her father. That was all she wanted to say on that topic, and I don't blame her."

"Maybe I'll try talking to her, later," Logan said. "It's just that I keep remembering my foster mom, Rita. I'll see her favorite show, or a movie that she'd like, or hear a song she always danced to come on the radio-and I remember all over again."

"I've been there," Victor said. "I still am there, some days, but it's a bit different for me. Electronic memory. There wasn't a chance of deluding myself into thinking that she still was around."

"It's the same for everyone- there has to be some delay in the electronics, right? Don't try to make this a half-robot issue. I don't care what's going on. By that logic you're half human too, right?"

"Thanks." He didn't hear that point often enough. "Hey, Logan. If she makes another try, you give her a version of that speech, right? She needs to hear that, too."

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

"Giz, could you please make me something that will stop those losers from ruining something as basic as inventory?" Jinx slammed the door shut behind her. Gizmo had made several modifications to his workroom. If Kyd Wykkyd tried to follow her in without using the handle, they would be able to check a new perimeter defense system.

"What did the crudmunchers do now, Jinx?"

"Billy decided that he couldn't handle counting up fuel cells all by himself, so he multiplied. He managed to make himself less useful. While he was doing that, Kyd Wykkyd yet again decided that doors are for lesser mortals, Seemore didn't open boxes, and one of the Billys managed to trip Mammoth. Mammoth beat the snot out of that Billy with two punches, then threw it at Kyd Wykkyd."

"So that means that if we ever end up in the black again, Mammoth's getting a bonus."

"You are, too," she said with a relieved smile. "You soundproofed this room and can keep Larry, Moe, and Curly out. I didn't know it could be so hard to turn a profit going criminal, but I think that we'll do much better when the three of them shape up."

"What if they don't shape up?" Gizmo asked. He soldered a tiny chip into a police-issued laser gun. The experimental model had been pricy on the underground, but he would be able to do a little more than knock people over.

"After weeks with no improvement, I would leave them for the cops when they screw up. Mammoth is the one doing inventory."

"Are we sure he can count that high?"

Jinx shrugged impatiently. "He apparently can, he's doing it. Are you sure that you can turn that thing into something other than a light show? It's experimental tech for riot control."

"Not anymore," Gizmo said, connecting just a few more wires. "They put inhibitors between the muzzle and the power source. I just short-circuited them. The idiots who made this practically wanted this baby to be modified."

"Is there any possibility of 'accidentally' testing that on the shallow end of the talent pool?" Jinx asked. "I think that's the only motivation these idiots could understand."

"Where did you find them, Jinx? They're not even in the shallow end. They need supervision in the kiddie pool."

"They need supervision in an empty kiddie pool," she agreed. "They came to me, actually, said that they needed work. Someone let it get around that I was hiring. When I find who that was, fortune isn't going to be with them."

"I'm sure we can find some use for them, Jinx, even if they are a distraction while the rest of us get away. You're the leader, I'm tech, and Mammoth is muscle. What else do we need? All we need to make is a profit."

"Don't even start, Giz." He ignored her. She wasn't surprised.

"You and your mission. Jinx, we're stealing from the norms and getting money so we can steal more expensive things from them the next time. Do we really need to play interference? That's just going to turn ugly."

"That's none of your business," she said. "'We' aren't playing interference. I am, and I'm not going to stop because you threw in your last two cents."

He recognized that tone. "Jinx, don't get mad, I could have said it better. I just don't know what it's going to get done."

"I don't, either," she said. "But I have to try something besides just making a profit."

"Try this."

She caught the object he tossed. He didn't have that much arm to begin with, so it wasn't hard. She looked skeptically at an L of light gray plastic with a trigger built inside of it. "Giz, just what is this supposed to do?"

"Adjoining room. VR- virtual reality- chamber. Completely three-dimensional, fully loaded, all you need is a bulky pair of sunglasses to see the figures on the greenscreen. I'll have those down to something more manageable when a few other projects work out. This little idea is part stress relief and part practice for a few tricks with security cameras, in case we're shooting for stealth. The VR uses video of people to create virtual replicas- I'm working on things like gait. That's combined with top of the line combat simulation."

"English, Giz. Save the geek-speak for the sunless folk who can suitably admire you for whatever tricky thing you did."

"That VR chamber will let you shoot at the kiddie-pool patrol. You get some quality knockouts in, you're not short three employees."

"Why the heck are you doing this, Giz?" Jinx looked at the sunglasses in her hand. They were better than anything on the civilian market. "You could have been one of the sunless video game designers, or anything else. Not a thief."

"Question for a question. What the heck are you doing here, Jinx?"

She looked at him for a moment like she was thinking about it, but she put the dark glasses on and left for the other room. He hadn't expected an answer from her, and didn't have one himself.

* * *

"Raven, can I talk to you for a second?"

"You already are, Logan, and somehow I doubt that you want one second."

"I'm sorry about last night. I overreacted."

It took her a moment to find the words. Apologies were rare enough. Sincere apologies happened once in a blue moon. "I accept your apology." Logan meant it, and that was more than enough for her. She tried to make the words sound something other than stiff.

"Do you think that-" He said something less than polite when Tim announced that it was time to start practice, but finally continued. "I don't think I'm ready to talk about everything just yet. It's nothing personal, I just don't know how much I could."

"I didn't have the best phrasing, but I can honestly say I understand. I haven't had the same things happen, perhaps, but I am an empath."

"Thanks for the offer." It was easier to just get on her nerves or to snap when she got on his. Talking took more effort, and he was trying to avoid what usually would just happen. He didn't want to turn this into a fight- and he had help from an unwanted source while she was drafting some response.

"Raven! Changeling! Practice started two minutes ago."

Logan glared in Tim's general direction. Practice could wait at least four minutes. So Logan was a little out of condition- he would be back in shape after five days of practice, and that was an overestimation. "And the universe still is in good shape. Another two minutes won't cause the apocalypse."

"Practice like you fight. Would you show up two minutes late?"

"This is more important than meta aerobics," Logan said. "I'll practice more later to make up for this, if you want, but this matters."

"Important?" Tim asked.

"I'll be the judge of that." Logan wasn't going to get anyone else involved. Victor was different- he wouldn't drag it up again. He just made the problem easier to understand. Tim would take it all out of proportion, when he was in leader-mode.

"If I'm going to lead this group, I will."

"Who died and made you leader?" Logan asked. "That was some pretty small print in the conversation- we're a team. We don't need the fun-size version of the Masked Mussolini running around here. It's the same as the candy bars. Is a smaller version of candy really 'fun?' No, but it's a politer description than 'dinky.'"

"Are you done?"

"I suppose."

"Good. It's time to train. Nobody died to make me a leader. If I can prevent it in any way, nobody will."

"You have experience leading a team?"

"I have enough experience in combat situations. You have no more experience in that than I do."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "So we both haven't done it before. There's only one problem- you can't just set yourself up as leader of a team like this. It takes trust. You don't have trust quite yet. If we're in a fight and you tell me that you have my back- I'll still look. You're a leader when the team looks to you in the field for direction, not because you decided that it had been your idea to form the team."

"We don't need a debate," Victor cut in before Tim could respond with something angry. He almost could agree with what Logan was saying, but they would have to work on the phrasing. "Robin's leading practice. He's doing a good job. We'll talk about field leader later- we're not doing any sort of crime-fighting until next week at the earlier. Tim Drake will be disappearing to Gotham in two days."

"May we please not fight each other?" Starfire asked. She would have sided with Tim. Combat practice was important, as they all knew. Logan surely knew this, from his previous experience, but that was not what made it hard for her to choose a side. He and Raven had made peace. That was worth delaying practice for two minutes.

The rest of practice was an improvement on the day before, except for new posturing between Robin and Changeling. The only saving grace of the practice was that Cyborg didn't feel the need to join in. There never was an outright fight. That would at least stop after a very interesting competition. Robin was very good, and had learned from the best. Beast Boy had turned into some dinosaur or other with very sharp teeth and claws the day before. She wasn't sure what would happen, and wasn't sure she wanted to know. Teammates weren't supposed to have these kinds of conflicts.

By the time practice was over, Raven wasn't sure which emotions were which. Logan was still seething irritation, Tim was bristling anger, Victor was impatient, Starfire was confused, and Raven couldn't tell where all the extras were supposed to belong. She did know that Tim had finally stopped practice, after a less than satisfactory few drills, and that she was tired. She wanted to go back to her room in the hotel, use the provided coffee maker to heat water, make tea, and meditate before the tangle of emotions became more complicated. She wasn't going to get what she wanted.

"Raven, can I talk to you?"

The last conversation to start like that would have ended fine if hadn't been interrupted. "You are talking to me."

"I know, but I just wanted to be polite."

"I have been hearing four concentrated snarls of emotion while doing various tiring things that probably should be impossible. Polite is not my top priority at the moment," she said evenly.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted anything important, when Logan was talking to you."

"Do you expect me to tell you just what we were discussing?" she asked.

"No." Tim wasn't lying. He had just hoped that she would.

"We had a minor disagreement. We resolved it, and were conversing like civilized adults. That's all that you will hear about the matter from me."

"I'm sorry, Raven. I know that the team doesn't feel like a team right now- do you think Logan might not throw something at me if I promised to order pizza?"

"I think that you might have found the solution," she said with a brief nod. "Is that all?"

"Yes." She left, then, and he didn't know what else to say.

"Why do you frown so, friend Timothy?"

No one but Star. "I don't know if this is going to work, Starfire. Logan and Raven finally were getting along, and I messed it up. Victor likes the idea, but I'm not so sure he likes me. Logan and I don't get along. If Raven wasn't polite, I doubt she'd say six words to me. We're not a team."

"Is that everything?" Starfire asked.

It would have been sarcasm, from anyone else, but he was pretty sure that she hadn't learned about sarcasm yet. "Yes."

"Logan and Raven are learning to get along. They are alike enough to clash, and are different enough to not always know how to fix such things. Victor respects you, but probably will be less skeptical when you and Logan can get along. That will happen when the two of you can learn to not be so competitive. Raven is not talkative. We are not a team yet."

"You just have an answer to everything, Starfire."

"You didn't ask for the last answer. We're not a team yet."

"What do I have to do?"

"Trust them," Starfire said. "You cannot tell them that you are the leader. On Tamaran, that would not be allowed. You must be the most focused, the most trusting, and the most willing to take direction from the others. Those who claim to be leader rarely can tell warriors to fight back. Those who earn it can tell their warriors to fight at impossible odds and win. It is different when the leader is a part of the team, you see."

"I shouldn't have been so defensive."

"That would be a more abbreviated way to state such an observation."

"How about the whole team gets together, just to talk and eat dinner? No training, no stress. Just working together and seeing how long it takes us to get sick of each other."

She smiled and nodded, once. Timothy was beginning to understand.


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

_Since people have asked- National Novel Writing Month didn't work out this year. I had two exams, two quizzes, and a paper in the same week, and all the college stuff was time that wasn't spent on the story. I still have an original work in progress. It just won't be done this month.  
Part two: I am a college student first and an amateur writer second. Rude requests to update fics will be disregarded. Some stories have a few personal reasons behind delays that will remain personal. My thanks to everyone who hasn't hounded me for another chapter.  
Now that the announcements are over- the only character I own is Darcy, who will make another few appearances._  
**  
**

**CHAPTER FIVE**  
"Just my luck," Jinx grumbled. "Not only does this bank play music rejected by the elevator companies, we have the city's newest public relations stunt evacuating the lobby."

"What are we going to do about it?" Gizmo asked.

"Wykkyd, you have two jobs. Both are easy. Don't mess up. First, you're moving all this back to our place," she said, gesturing at the canvas bags of money Gizmo and See-More had checked for any traps. Gizmo had done most of the work, but she had expected as much. "When you're done, you're backing up See-More. When we confront the mayor's darlings, See-More will be concentrating on the alien."

"The alien?"

"Do you have a problem with that?" Jinx asked sweetly.

He recognized that tone from practice. "No," he said quickly.

"Good." She hadn't known See-More's eye could widen. "Billy, don't laugh," she snapped. She still didn't know how some teammates remembered to breathe. "You're focusing on Changeling. Mob him- he's not made to fight groups of people. Mammoth, Batman junior. Gizmo, you have the robot."

"You have the Goth?" Gizmo asked.

Jinx smirked. "She'll have some dark thoughts to think when I win. Wykkyd, get moving. We're only dragging this fight out long enough for you to clear everything out."

"Do we have a signal for moving out?" See-More asked.

"It'll be an easy one. When Kyd Wykkyd is back and fighting, scatter. We don't need a distraction any longer, and don't know enough about the Titans to risk a prolonged fight. For all we know, they could be worth a quarter of the hype."

"A full quarter, Jinx?"

"I'm being generous, Giz. Don't get used to it. Move out."

Jinx looked over the scene in an instant. Mini-Batman, decked like a December hall, was evacuating citizens, with help from the green guy, the alien, the demon, and the robot. The desks spread through the open lobby and meeting area were abandoned, some chairs were overturned, and it was light even with no electricity in the building. The plate glass windows covering the front of the building let in much more light than needed.

She glanced at her team while mini-Bats noticed their presence. Short geek, big muscle, sideshow Cyclops, purple Dracula knockoff, and… Billy. See-More was already watching his target- it was a pity that he was distracted with the sight beneath Starfire's top. He wouldn't do so well in the fight if he couldn't focus on artillery instead of her chest.

"Titans, go!"

She laughed. She couldn't help it- Christmas-in-October, Batman's old sidekick, and he already had a new tagline. As if he wasn't enough, he was backed by a girl in a miniskirt and thigh-high boots, purple and black on green, eighties-era chrome, and a cape that didn't quit. All of them were two weeks too early for Halloween.

She saw the uncertainty- had no one laughed at them before? She smiled even sweeter. That expression always made her team pay attention. "We're not even going to try at banter first?" she asked, making a fast motion with her hand. A chair in front of Robin fell, and he leapt over it. "Of course, judging by previous example, it would be better for you to not try." She made a longer motion, and an arc of pink light shot ahead.

Five on five. Mammoth grunted at contact with Robin's staff. Anyone else would have been knocked out, at least, but Mammoth just kept going. See-More was overmatched, and Billy hadn't thought to multiply just yet. Gizmo and Cyborg were keeping their distance, and everyone else stayed away from the crossfire.

Raven threw a chair. It wasn't the most original move, of course, but Raven was still green to combat. Jinx had been making her own way for years. She didn't bother to hex the chair. Instead, she ducked, and came back with a carefully aimed shower of pink. Raven tripped, and caught a bruise on the forehead when Jinx lobbed a paperweight. Style was less important than effect, in this kind of fight. It wasn't like there was a camera rolling.

Jinx tipped a desk while Raven was down. She wasn't trying for lethal force, but she was trying to pin the girl so she could keep Starfire from helping Changeling. Billy finally had multiplied, and it seemed that even a Tyrannosaurus Rex didn't do so well when surrounded by fighters. Mammoth had landed only a few blows, but Robin was much smaller. Mammoth wouldn't slow down any time soon. Jinx guessed that much from marathon training sessions- she wouldn't go near the field with a team that couldn't handle combat.

Raven wasn't very creative, Jinx reflected as she rolled under an airborne desk, and didn't try to cause any serious bodily harm. She wasn't about to complain, of course, but she would rather be sure it wasn't a front to bring her guard down. Jinx shot bursts of pink at Raven's feet, and was there when Raven stumbled with another flash of bright pink magic.

It wasn't magic, really, but no one had a better word for it than her name. She was bad luck. Her only good days were at someone else's expense. Drake had made a fuss that she could help people. She almost missed that cop. He had never caught her, but never had shot at her. He was in Gotham, last she heard, where he wouldn't talk and talk without figuring out that she just didn't do 'good girl.'

If she did think about such a thing, however, she would do better than the purple-haired twit. Gizmo had hacked into the national database on metahumans. It had taken him two minutes to download all files they wanted, including the hacking. Meta security wasn't a priority, it seemed. The halfling demon, or whatever she was, had a long list of powers and the usual weakness- she had way too many things she could do.

Jinx had used most of her options already. She could cause bad luck and fight hand-to-hand. Raven needed to concentrate, and Jinx didn't mean to leave her time. Jinx was barely deviating from a standard pattern fight, and she was holding the girl off. She could see the alien closing in- shot of pink, sweep the leg, and add in a guiding hand to help the demon fall.

She didn't see the green sneak up behind her it was no wonder. She caught a glimpse of a hummingbird before the gorilla slugged her. That knocked the breath from her lungs and knocked her into the alien. Someone taught the losers teamwork? Billy was supposed to have mobbed the green guy. She saw him while she backed away from the alien and changeling, out cold. See-More was just as unconscious and useless. This was not going as planned. She hadn't thought _two_ of her team members would flunk the field test.

The half-demon was getting up. She had fallen, but Jinx hadn't been able to make sure she hit her head hard enough to cause at least a blackout. Gizmo and Mammoth still had their hands full. She circled, waiting for someone to make a first move. The green guy was human, at the moment, and the alien's hands were glowing. Jinx circled. Three against one- those were bad odds, and luck was only occasionally on her side.

She waited until she saw the teammates make eye contact, then used a new trick. One beam of pink shot forward, knocking the green guy over, and the other shot behind her and into the wall of glass. She was cartwheeling away before the alien caught Changeling, or whatever he called himself, and stopped just before the window. The green guy was chasing her, with the alien and demon, but that didn't matter. She leaped over the glass and hit the ground ready to run, shooting pink behind her without taking time to aim.

She glanced back. Beast brat from the east coast had hit a jagged edge of the glass, probably knocked off course by a chance hit. He had changed back to human on instinct, but still was in the air- it seemed purple-hair finally had found something useful to do with telekinesis. The Rhode Island papers hadn't given her this much information. Injuries stayed between forms, if the deep gashes in his left side were any indication.

Jinx kept running. Never waste a head start. Mammoth and Gizmo would meet her at the rendezvous. Hopefully Wykkyd had finished. If he could get away from the Titans, he would join them. If not... well, it was Darwinist villainy. Survival of those fitter than the hero-types.

She took a few deep breaths when she reached the meeting point. It had been a long run, but it hadn't been so bad. No one had pursued her, and people in this town didn't get in her way. She had caused a few broken legs by accident, at the worst, and no one wanted to try their chances. Gizmo and Mammoth were only a few minutes behind her.

"Did Wykkyd make it?" she asked, directing the question at Mammoth. Gizmo still was breathing hard.

"No," Mammoth said, as detailed as usual.

"He showed up right when you bailed," Gizmo said, between hard breaths. "What was that about?"

"Did you see the company, Giz? I had three Titans on me. It was nothing personal, but I'm not interested in getting caught."

"We're a _team_, Jinx."

"If you want to sing Kumbaya, you're on the wrong side of the law. I'll help you, if it won't put me behind bars. We might work together, but I wouldn't take a bullet for you." Her manner was casual, but she was tense. If he even thought about correcting her, she was gone, but his frown wasn't disapproving. He was smarter than he looked, not that he had to try very hard.

"You're up-front, at least," he said. "Mammoth gave me the distraction I needed. He re-used an old move when Robin got a bit too close to smack at Wykkyd. He threw mini-Bat, the alien went for the catch, their witch grabbed Wykkyd in a hold he couldn't teleport out of, and I blasted their techie with an EMP."

"I thought that you hadn't tested your electromagnetic equipment," Jinx said.

"I have now. His systems are pretty sensitive, and I know that his wrist's circuits are off. They don't have as much insulation. Sloppy work, but not to be relied on next time," Gizmo said. "Wykkyd did finish the transport. I gave a false hint so that the Titans think there's still something in the vault we closed. The bank will have fun waiting for the time lapse safe."

She smiled. "I could get used to working with you guys," she said. Mammoth wasn't the talkative sort, and had the brains to match, but he had kept Robin busy. "I wouldn't take a bullet for anyone but next time I'll stick around. I'd hate to miss another sight as good as mini-bats flying."

Mammoth was the one to put his hand out. Gizmo followed suit without a pause. Jinx took only a moment. She put her hand in. They would make it happen. She just hoped they weren't expecting her to wait around if she had a chance to move up. They worked together, but a girl had to look after herself.

* * *

"What happened in there?"

They were in the T-Car, finally away from reporters, when Robin asked.

"Not a lot of teamwork," Cyborg said as he started the car. It was his car, and he was the only team member that could drive something that complicated while reserving memory for the current discussion. A few turns needed to access the underwater tunnel were very sharp. "The first I saw was after Starfire clobbered the one-eyed kid with a desk so she could help out Logan. The two of them helped Raven out of a tight spot."

"Are you saying I could have done better?" Robin asked.

"No need to be so touchy," Cyborg said. "I wasn't a part of that teamwork equation, you might have noticed. I concentrated on the tech shorty. By the time I noticed that Logan could use a hand, I was way too far away to be any help. I didn't do so well with the teamwork business."

"Neither did I," Robin said.

"Don't sound so hard on yourself," Raven said. "I- blanked," she admitted.

"It was your first time on the field," Logan said, his first comment since saying 'nice catch' to Raven when he realized that he wasn't going to land on sharp glass. "You did a few first-timer things, but I'll tell you straight off that you did better than most people do when they go in for a real fight."

"We caught Rancid two days ago," she said.

"That was five-on-one," Robin said. "I know that we haven't nominated a leader, but I'm just saying this from someone that's seen training before. We should log a few simulations when everyone's rested, and I'll help anyone that needs some one-on-one time."

"That would be me," Raven said.

Starfire smiled. "There is no need to sound so gloomy. On Tamaran, admitting that you require more practice is the sign of a great warrior."

"Great warrior? A girl in pink pigtails knocked me over."

"You can get experience," Robin said. "I can help you with that. Learning to adapt can be tricky, but I can make sure that you know how to fight hand-to-hand. You shouldn't rely on your powers all the time. Jinx knew right away how to get in too close."

"I need the practice," Raven agreed, and the conversation shifted to how the police would keep their three suspects in jail. She stared out the window, thinking. She had thought that she would want to leave, by this point. It was supposed to have been a trial-and-error effort, but she liked these people. She even liked Tim's high-horse talks, Starfire's strange ideas about culinary expression, Vic's enthusiasm about many things electronic, and Logan's sharp sarcasm.

They were back. She wouldn't say they were home, but they at least were on their island, in the basement's garage. "Logan," she said, before he was too far ahead. "Your side isn't looking very green."

"I feel like I'm ripping Robin's color scheme, with the green and red," Logan quipped. "All I need is a bit of yellow. That's likely, if Star has more fun with opening the mustard."

"I can help you with that," she said. "Sewing isn't my specialty, so I'll leave the gashes in the uniform to you."

"No thanks," he said, putting a hand over the cuts carefully. "I can take care of it."

Raven frowned. "It's no trouble," she said. The others were listening, but that wasn't important.

"It is to me," Logan said.

Eight eyes watched him walk up the stairs, and six watched her call the elevator with more force than necessary.

* * *

"Polls?" Darcy asked wearily.

"No, Ms. Whittaker. Coffee. I think you need it."

She looked up blearily. Go into politics, they had said. With your looks and your grades, the right public relations team, and that incumbent, all you'll have to do is make sure you get your teeth whitened for camera-ready smiles. Her advisor in international relations had been kind enough to remind her that cameras added fifteen pounds. If she'd known that she would lose more than Cheezits, she might have considered a more demanding career.

"If that's decaf, I'll cry. That will smudge my makeup, and you will have Chloe at the front desk lecturing you as she redoes it."

He smiled. "It's fully loaded. I can figure that much out at least, Ms. Whittaker."

"You're new here. It's Darcy. 'Ms. Whittaker' sounds like my mother when she's between husbands." She glanced at her covered desk. "I don't think there is a place for it, but I doubt the cup will be full for long."

"Chloe said to tell you that a reporter wants an interview sometime next week, a face-to-face if possible."

She glanced at his nametag. The national conference supplied all interns with tags, probably so she could remember all the local reporters and journalists. "Which paper, Raul?" she asked.

"Lefty."

She gave him an appraising look. "You learn fast. Is it that blonde harpy that's been screeching about repealing the Metahuman Act? She already ran a front-page exclusive on my neoconservative tactics, and she bumped me four percent up in the polls."

"Your platform doesn't approve of metahumans?" he asked.

Maybe he was a bit greener than he sounded. He spoke the lingo, but he still had that idealistic streak. He'd lose that before his second round of finals in college. "The voters don't approve of metahumans, Raul. Enough don't, anyway, and politicians know to follow the majority."

She drained the last of her coffee, then glanced at her reflection in a small mirror. Perfect. She hadn't smudged her lipstick, for once. Chloe would be delighted.

The kid still was there. "It's the way of the world, Raul," she said. She wasn't gentle. Politics were harsh, and it was a matter of not selling out completely. She handed him the empty coffee cup. "Let me know when the latest polls are in and good job on the coffee." He'd either come back a little closer to seeing his name on the ballot, or she'd have a new intern by next Tuesday.

She waited until he was out of her office before re-reading a new e-mail. Special interest group, par for the course, but the not-the-football-team Patriots were offering a few side deals that would go a little farther than campaign funding slipped into the till without the hassle of a receipt. She read the e-mail twice, and made her decision.

Forget the city clerk. He might be cute, but he didn't have the resources. She picked up her phone while rooting through papers for her schedule. "Chloe, schedule me for a Tuesday lunch at that bistro near Mason, for two," she said. "Joseppi's? I think so."

Darcy looked over her chipped nail polish while Chloe looked into reservations. She would have to get a manicure in. The most asinine details mattered when a girl tried to make it in politics. Pretty, but not too pretty, smarter than the guys, and doing it all while dressed in flattering yet conservative styles in bold colors that weren't gaudy.

"It's at twelve," Chloe said. "I know the host on duty, and pulled a favor. Do I get to leave early Tuesday?"

Tuesday... no, she wouldn't need a receptionist Tuesday. "As long as you stay until three or so. After the luncheon, I'll need to talk details."

Darcy could almost hear skepticism. "Who are you meeting with?"

Darcy only smiled, the perfect smile for a camera: just a touch of the upper lip, make sure to show just a hint of the lower teeth, perfect curve, and make sure that the lipstick draws attentions to all the right place. "Someone who can give me a shot in this race more certain than aiming for Quincy Warder's checkered past."

The caffeine was starting to kick in, she booked an opening online for her favorite salon, and she had four days to put together a little more information on the Patriots. Politics were finally looking up.

* * *

"Logan." Victor didn't knock. He just waited for an answer.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"That's nice. I do, and I will. I don't know what was going on, but I know that you got hurt, she could have fixed it."

"It's about the DP, okay? Just leave it alone."

"About Rita?"

Logan tried to find something that he could get angry about, but it sounded like Victor understood. "Yeah. About Rita." Victor wasn't going to leave. Logan opened the door.

Victor walked inside. "So, Rita would want you to mess with the shyest person on this team? I don't entirely mean to be rude to you, but being nice takes longer, wastes time, and isn't as effective. You have some reason that you didn't want the resident half-demon healing you?"

"You think that's it? What the hell do you think I'm about, Victor? Sure, it's odd to think about, that she's half something not human, but when a guy can turn into things straight out of Star Wars, that's not a biggie."

"That's what she's going to think it is, Einstein. You haven't exactly given her another alternative, and what do you think she's used to? I was the one who processed a report. Some psycho lady tried to sue the city because she was healed by a half-demon. Raven saved the woman's life and the woman was railing about her eternal soul and thundering for compensation of a monetary sort."

Logan snorted. "A person who willingly hired a trial lawyer is claiming that anyone else is in charge of her eternal soul's fate? Not bloody likely."

"Doesn't matter, still sold papers. The woman involved broke all rules of the unusual case and gave Raven's name. The gag order was in effect, so papers couldn't print it, but the people in that jury and in that courtroom heard, and remembered. That's the kind of shit she's been dealing with for years. You know I like to keep language clean, but what I've seen is shit. We don't need that here."

"So, what do you want me to do? Go tell her that my dead almost-mother was always the medic, and that I don't want anyone else for now? Not likely. First, wouldn't make a difference. Second, we can't pussyfoot around because she's shy. Third, not my problem."

"You're lucky I learned to control my temper years ago," Victor said. "She is not your problem, but you could show consideration enough to care when she's hurting. You even could try not saying stuff like that to start out with. I just... forget it. You could have been her friend. I knew about her before I met her. You were the first person to hear that bomb about her dad and not give any negative reaction, but you just proved you're like all those people who would stare because you're green."

"Victor, I-"

"Save it, Logan. I'll talk to you some other time, when I'm not ten wrong words away from losing my control. The next time I see her, I'll talk to her to make sure that she knows that it was some detail or other."

"Rita is not a detail."

"Neither is Raven. She's here now and Rita isn't. Well, to be specific, Raven's in her room now, and I won't be able to persuade her to come down to the common room. Good night, and good luck with that wound." He knew that Logan had been thinking about Rita, but that was no excuse to get nasty.

"I'll be fine."

Victor only shrugged as he walked away. "Keep telling yourself that," he suggested, and left Logan with his ghosts.

* * *

Raven waited until everyone else would be asleep before venturing from her room. It wasn't a big deal. So Logan didn't want her to heal him. She had heard worse. All she was avoiding was the production that everyone else would want to make of it._  
_

_You keep telling yourself that, Raven._

Caffeine was not her friend, at the moment. The last thing she needed to do was stay awake. Instead, she tried something new. She had never lived by the ocean before, and now there was a shore just outside her apartment. It technically wasn't an apartment, but she liked the familiar term.

The pneumatic hiss of the door was different. According to Cyborg, the technology recognized them. She hadn't been entirely sure if that was a good idea, with shape-shifting villains, but he had promised there was more to the security than just the visual component. She had listened when he explained, but she had watched how content he was when he had an engineering puzzle to dismantle and put back together.

The sea was too big, even if she was looking back at the city. She had never seen such open spaces in Azarath, though she knew they had farms somewhere. She had spent her days in the buildings where Azar spent her time, doing… something. It should bother her, perhaps, that she knew so little about the place she grew up, but her concerns had always been internal. They still were. She couldn't lose control.

It wasn't as much effort as it had once been. When she had been a teenager, she had broken various delicate and indelicate objects with a frustrating regularity. Now, she and inanimate objects had a much better relationship.

She heard heavy footsteps. It was much too solid for Robin or Starfire, and too uneven to be Cyborg. She turned, not giving any doubts time to form before she saw green.

Lots of green, she amended as she looked up and up again. She refused to feel anything that let her insides twist and sick, and looked into- eyes. She couldn't feel any of the usual subtle bitter tang behind the loud humor. She saw everything, and felt it just as strongly. Pain and grief and loneliness, not hidden with commentary or twisted expressions. Looking at him in that moment- he was more alien than Starfire.

She looked to his side, glancing at the large wound. Well, there was an answer. The wounds appeared to stay in proportion with his size, and he was currently very big.

"Will you let me heal you?" she asked, her voice the only sound besides breathing and the waves' quiet crashes.

Logan was gigantic, and in the form of an animal she had never seen before. It was something between an ape and a wolf, with a few touches that looked nearly feline.

He stepped closer, which she took to be an answer. He was tense, but she felt no anger in him. It was odd, that he was staying in such a large form, but she didn't mind. Maybe this was his way of making sure they didn't ruin something with talking.

"I'm sorry for pushing earlier," she said, as the white gathered around her hands. He had some reason for protesting, and she should have thought of that before feeling hurt.

She released the power gently, concentrating only on the deep red that was out of place in the green.

She didn't know how many heartbeats or breaths or waves or minutes had passed, but the healing was done. A familiar sharp ache settled in her center, in meditation. The acuteness of the pain surprised her, and she wondered how he would have dealt with it himself.

He still said nothing. She glanced at him, curious, and couldn't hold the wild gaze.

They both watched a seabird that wheeled close above their heads. She didn't know what it was, but doubted she would get an answer from him. He had yet to say a word, and the silence was nice. He found a seat on a relatively level group of rocks. She edged closer, unsure, and could almost understand the look in his eyes. She sat by his side, and they were quiet together until she was breathing with the waves.


	6. CHAPTER SIX

_I don't own the Titans, and have no affiliation with mentioned talk programs. (I would not want to change the latter.) This chapter is short, but I don't want to cram all the important things together. _

**CHAPTER SIX**  
"Tim, you've been around the hero business before," Victor said as he sorted through mail. "Is there a point where a group is officially famous?"

"Did some talk show send an invitation?" Tim asked, looking up from a newspaper.

"Oprah."

"That's a good sign. The View is usually a sign your career is about to tank." He put down the newspaper to glance at the letter. "I know that Superman made the talk show circuit once, but he was looking for information on Luthor's latest scheme. Did they give a reason?"

"The usual babble. The gist of it is that they're trailing after a younger audience to add to the commercials revenue," Victor said. "They think we're marketable, but they hid that under 'a chance at nation-wide recognition.'"

"I think we can pass on that."

"No kidding. You still have a secret identity, and nobody needs the national exposure."

"Besides that, Logan explained his feelings about Oprah's show last week," Tim said with a wince. Logan's feelings had been both loud and explicit. "I'm pretty sure no one wants to hear that a documentary on fungus is more engrossing than her talk show."

"He's too blunt to qualify for polite, but he's honest," Victor said. "I talked to him this morning. He and Raven currently aren't fighting, at least according to him. He hasn't seen her yet, but she healed him. He promised to talk to her when he sees her."

"Awake at nine in the morning?"

"He mentioned something about bad dreams. I didn't ask. His room was pretty torn up, he was cleaning it up," Victor said.

"Is Raven up yet?"

"I haven't seen her yet, but she might be sleeping in. She had her first challenging fight yesterday, then healed Logan long-range."

"Excellent morning, friends!"

The team had been together long enough that even blatant morning people didn't faze Victor. "Coffee's on the counter, Star. If you must put mustard in it, don't show me." He was getting more used to Tamaranean eating habits, but there was something wrong with polluting coffee.

"You are certain that you do not wish to try it?"

"I'll keep my coffee traditional," Victor said.

"Thanks, Starfire, but I'm set in my ways."

"No thank you, Star." Raven didn't know just what Starfire had asked before Raven entered the room, but Tim and Victor both had declined the cup of coffee.

Raven would have declined coffee without any of the more unique additions. She didn't like the bitter taste, and had her own form of caffeine for mornings. She found the kettle in the cupboard on the second try. "Is there any trouble yet?"

"Not yet," Tim said. "I know that we planned to train individually today, but I could work with you on usual strategies. Everyone has different ranges, but I have known a few people who fought almost exclusively from distance."

"I'm next to useless close-range," Raven said bluntly. It was true; she never had learned to fight. She had been raised by pacifists on Azarath. Just look how far that had gotten her. The prophecy had passed without any incident, and the peaceful monks had been completely placid as they offered assistance in packing her bags. They wouldn't approve of what she was doing now but she hadn't lived by their rules for years.

"I can help you with that," Tim said. "There was a reason nobody saw me for the first few weeks I was working with Batman. When I started out, I had two left feet."

"How did you end up partnered with Batman?" Victor asked. Tim was good, but that didn't seem to be all of it.

"I- well, I figured out who he was when he's not in the cowl. I put the day job with the night job, and I badgered him until he agreed to take me on as the third Robin," Tim said.

Starfire looked slightly puzzled. Raven shook her head, just a little. Victor laughed.

"You're serious, aren't you. If you were going to make something up, it would probably be a little more complimentary than that." Victor could picture that story coming to life.- Tim was stubborn enough to get a job in the meta force when he was barely a week into being a beat cop. The department had only been accepting veterans, when it started. Tim had a new badge within a week. "You'd never know, with your track record afterward," he said.

"I'd really like to say that Batman chose me," Tim agreed. "He's had two other sidekicks, and I convinced him to let me be the third," he explained to Starfire.

"Please, why did he agree to allow you to be a third kick to his side?"

Raven left Tim to explain, and covered her mouth on instinct when she heard Victor's muttered comment about a refresher course in slang. She would agree that Tim wouldn't protest too much but she would rather take the kettle off the heat before it started whistling. Completely boiling water would scald the tea.

She didn't hear him approach, but she could already identify teammates through empathic signatures.

"Good morning," she said.

Logan wasted no time. "I was a jerk. I'm sorry. Good morning."

She felt a trace of a smile again, the second time in a morning. "In the past tense?" she asked.

"Be nice," Victor chided. He was smiling, too. "There's still some coffee left, Logan. Mustard only touched the stuff in Star's cup, this time."

"Today was individual training, right?" Logan asked. He knew Tim would probably be explaining for another minute, at least, but Victor and Raven would know.

"Right," Victor said. "What are you working with?"

"The group simulators. The Numerous idiot tried to surround me, and it would have worked if he had any neurons firing." Logan stretched, and it didn't hurt. "I'd be in no condition to train without the intervention, though. Thanks, Raven."

Again? Three smiles, however hard to see, was a record for one morning. "You're welcome." Raven only paused for a second. "We both agree that civilities probably won't last for more than two hours?"

Logan laughed. "You'd give us two?"

She smiled again. "Just this once. Don't get used to it."

* * *

"Jinx, we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?"

"Politics," Gizmo said. "It will be a problem soon. A new right-wing group has been contacting prominent officials, but only in this city. I have a few passive filters running through the city's official e-mail system. This group has been contacting high-level cops, up and coming politicians, and anyone else who could use a boost when the city's elections go through. I checked outside the city, and this group's electronic signature didn't come up at all."

"Giz, you know I don't speak computer-geek."

"This isn't computers, Jinx. This is politics. There's a local group, centered in this city. They call themselves the Patriots, and they're offering favors for politicians. They're backing a candidate for mayor, some woman or other. If she gets into office, she'll owe them a favor. They'll pull her strings and get the cops to come down a little harder on metas. They're turning the council around against metas."

"We're not poster children for metahuman acceptance. What do you think we could do about it?"

Gizmo gestured impatiently. "The current restrictions on metas could get worse. We wouldn't be able to apply for a new phone line out without registering in person, and the instant they see a red card, it won't happen. We'll have to go completely underground, and that would be much harder."

"Can't you just copy an identification card? The phone company can't have very good systems, and the norms would be mad that they have to go in personally."

"Jinx, those cards all have biometrics. Fingerprint, a good picture, name, list of powers. I've tried to make cards, but it still won't work for someone like Mammoth. It won't work for you unless you put in tint contacts and dye your hair, and I can only pull off being a norm if I give my age as eight."

"Eight with leukemia," Jinx said, but she sounded tired instead of acerbic. "I know, Giz, and if anyone could do it, it'd be you."

"Did you hit your head when I wasn't looking, Jinx?"

She shook her head. "Worse. I was thinking. Would you have ended up thinking about going underground, if you had a white card? I think I would have been one of those kids in the cookie-cutter suburbs, with 1.4 siblings at home while I went off to college to end up in some legit nine to five."

"I don't think I'd be that different. I'd probably still hack into whatever computers I could, but I'd have to buy most of my components the boring way," He looked away from the monitor. "Whatever's going on, I'll keep an eye on it."

"Thanks, Gizmo."

"Hey, Jinx," he said. "Would you really have graduated from high school without any detentions? It's not the pink hair that causes all the mischief, you know."

"Maybe a few," she admitted. Maybe- she never had thought of that before. Life wouldn't necessarily be normal with round pupils. "Even if I was up to mischief, though, I don't think a high school could find enough proof to hold me responsible for everything that would have happened."

* * *

Raven had thought that Tim would work with her for an hour or so. She had been wrong, and was very sure that she had never been so sore in her life. An hour of meditation had helped, but healing herself was tricky. After a serious injury, she would go into a trance. It seemed that bruises with bruises weren't serious.

She had missed dinner, but their refrigerator was larger than her old closet, and she could reliably produce edible food with a microwave. After her late dinner, it was too late for anyone else to be up, but she wasn't tired. She meditated more often than she slept, typically, but didn't need to meditate. She was too tired to have any emotions in conflict.

She turned when she heard a noise, and the fighter's stance already seemed a natural thing to slip into, but there was no reason. Logan was in the gigantic animal form again, but his emotions were calmer. "Good evening, Logan. I didn't know you were up." He didn't say anything, but maybe he just liked that form. If she liked sitting in midair, she had no room to call his current form a strange favorite.

"Those are very big claws," she observed when he moved next to her. "I have no idea where you found that form, but I'm pretty sure that you're the only one of any color." Azarath didn't have much in the way of wildlife. She could remember a few drab two-toed birds with thin wings, and once she had seen a mouse with a thin body running along the wall. "I could be wrong, of course. I was surprised to see so many pigeons of different shades when I went to Gotham."

It was still strange, that he wasn't talking, but he was listening. "My mother was from Gotham. I wanted to try finding something about her, by going to that city. That didn't work out very well. It seems that the entire city belongs to Batman." That sounded a little bitter, but he just waited. "It took me a year to work myself across the country. I ended up in California for the climate, both weather and social. California has a reputation for being more liberal.

"I'm glad I did," she said. "This team... it's something else."

It didn't matter that he didn't say anything- from that look in his eyes, she guessed that he might just understand. "Civility might last longer than two hours after all," she said. She could feel his heart pulsing in his veins, keeping time with the waves. Multiple smiles in a morning, Batman's sidekick had been impressed with how fast she learned, and breathing with the waves. It could be the best day in her life.


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN

_This chapter is longer- you knew that I couldn't stay with 2,000 word chapters for long, and this is a classic example of several characters giving more than I asked for. The story was meant to have twelve chapters, honestly, but a plot-hole I just closed up today opened up a loop in the later plot. The story will be slightly extended, but won't be nearly as long as that other story (ignores Dots). _

_Please keep all arms, legs, limbs, and weapons inside the vehicle at all times. This is about to get complicated._

**CHAPTER SEVEN  
**"How was the lunch, Darcy?"

It seemed that Raul had adapted. It was just as well. Finding a decent poli-sci intern in October was as bad as an unplanned television interview. If you weren't dressed right, the unforgiving camera would add twenty pounds. The last thing she needed was an unattractive shot on the evening news. Looks mattered.

"I still need to think it through," she said, realizing that he had asked the question several seconds ago. "The group had an interesting proposition."

"What kind of proposition?"

She recognized that look: eager, excited, a brush with the big leagues. Seven years ago… well, seven years ago she had been slim without effort and hadn't had to munch on lettuce at political lunches. There was no way to eat salad neatly, but anything else would go straight to the hips and crowd over her waistline. Black clothing was a girl's best friend, but there was only so much it could do.

"The political kind, Raul. Have you finished the flyers yet?" It was an abrupt dismissal. She knew that the flyers had yet to be printed, and still were being checked against current polls. He left with some answer she didn't bother to listen to, and Darcy looked over her notes.

She hadn't written at the table, of course. That would have been rude to the man who had asked to meet with her. Instead, she had jotted down conversation topics and accompanying expressions during a bathroom break and when she returned to her car.

He had started with light subjects, and she had used the time to assess the man. She guessed that he was around forty. No grey hair, only traces of crows' feet, nice teeth, confident smile, dressed in high-end conservative clothing. He talked about traffic, the weather, and the proposal to use a local street for a movie set. Eloquent, nice vocabulary, didn't sound like a snob, didn't talk down to her, and, when she asked, he recommended the house vinaigrette with the garden salad.

He didn't bring up politics until the main course had arrived and they had assured the waiter that the food was excellent. He explained, in light, casual tones, exactly what his organization was prepared to offer. They would give her support. They could win her the over-24 bracket, male and female, from moderate on right. A few left-leaning folk would be encouraged by the rest of her proposals. All she had to take was a hard line on metahumans.

He had statistics all ready, and referenced studies that she had read from the source. One metahuman caused more property damage than thirty-eight average teenage males, and they led the national demographics in accidental deaths. If they had to be controlled, it was for everyone's good.

That wasn't the main sell. He promised the mayor's office with her name on the door. From there… all she needed to do was keep her nose scrubbed and look nice for the cameras, and she would be a shoo-in for state representative. She could cool her heels in the House for a couple terms, and move onto the big leagues as soon as she was the right age. Senators had to be thirty, after all.

From there… she didn't want to think farther. She had asked for the catch, then. She had delivered the question in her best camera mode: head tilted at the perfect angle to catch her best look, down-home but serious smile, pretty but not distractingly so. What was in it for him?

Influence, he said smoothly, without missing a beat.

She supposed he thought he looked like James Bond, but there was too much rumble in that voice. He sounded like he was on a motorcycle and like he thought he was going to sucker her in that easily. She was fresh out of school for political science, maybe, but she wasn't green. She left that look to whatever meta freak was on the city's new "crime fighting" team.

If the opposition got a hold of that card some six-year-old had sent her asking about Jump City's "heeroes"- she might have her conservatively daring suits, but she wasn't a gap-toothed pig-tailed brat asking the cameras cute little questions. She wouldn't be surprised if someone had put the snip up to it.

He wanted to give her support, so he could have a favor on her. Later, whenever he wanted a favor, he'd be tugging on her strings, and she'd be expected to be a good little puppet. She should have walked away. She hadn't. Instead, she finished her salad as they discussed just what 'influence' would mean.

She excused herself to the ladies' room and jotted down notes fast in the chicken-scratch shorthand she had invented during ethics lectures. Of all the wastes of her time, ethics had been one of the worst. She just wrote what the man wanted to hear on the final, the only test in the class. He swallowed it, hook, line, and sinker. She four-pointed the class. The busybody muckraker-turned-politician that had taken notes every day and worshipped the professor's rants? A three-point. There was justice in the world. That was the lesson.

Her host had left her a business card after they chatted. She had the fruit plate for desert, served on a reduction of something-or-other. She wasn't at lunch to listen to the waiter. She was there to make a connection with the Patriot district leader.

She didn't look at the card until she was in her car and had jotted down her last notes. Mr. Patrick Summers, Political Consultant. It had his e-mail, cell phone, and a handwritten number he had told her to call with her decision. She wouldn't decide on such an important thing at a lunch, after all. She had shook his hand with a firm grip-not weak and indecisive, but not strong enough that she wasn't feminine.

Back in her office, she read through her notes one more time. The light of her lamp showed a new detail, in the corner, and her decision to accept the terms was uncertain yet again.

The small picture showed a tiny flag, almost perfect. She had thought that it was just a smudge in the printing, that it was more red than white, but she had a document reader with an eight-times optical zoom.

Her lips drew into a tight line. They were offering her everything she wanted… but their symbol was a bloody flag.

* * *

"I think you and Raven have spent more than fifty hours just with one-on-one training," Victor said. "Are you sure this isn't too much for a week? She hasn't looked burnt out, but she doesn't have nearly as much experience in this."

"I've been watching her," Tim said, drinking water slowly. "She promised that she'd tell me if she was too tired, and she hasn't been. She can use more power than she thought possible in a day, and still be fast in sparring. I can still beat her, but she's quick."

"We've only had small-time crooks," Victor said. "How do you think she'll do if a bigger villain shows?"

"I think she'll do just fine. She could do- I don't even know. I've never heard of a mix of powers like hers, and I can't find some obvious weakness a villain could exploit. She mentioned that her control over emotions affects how much she controls her power- it's complex, but she seems to have it figured out."

Victor blinked. The red LCD light of his other eye flickered. "She's doing good, then?"

"She wants to learn, but that's not all of it. Next time, it won't be easy to pick a weak member of the team."

"That's great, Tim, but when are we going to have full-team practices? The main problem in that last fight wasn't that Raven is new to this. We didn't work as a team, and one-on-one isn't going to fix that."

Victor knew even before Tim's ready reply, which he ignored.

"Tim."

"Yeah?"

"You and Starfire have… something. I'm not sure what's going on, but she kissed you and you didn't mind. Now, you're friends, and you and Raven- Tim, this is just weird, and it can't turn out pretty."

"I don't know what you mean."

Victor looked over the table. Banging his head on it wouldn't do. The metal in his skull was denser than the table, and dents would be hard to fix. "Tim, you're blushing. Batman is the World's Greatest Detective, in popular billing. You've out-thought _Batman, _but you start turning pink if I point out that you are crushing on Raven."

"Not so loud!"

"Logan's in the gym with Star, and they're in the process of ruining yet another set of practice-use dummies. Those things just don't stand up to claws, even before adding an alien. Raven is beat. No one else is listening." He still kept his voice quiet. There was no need to court disaster when it already had the passkey to the Tower.

"It's not like I tried!"

"Tim, let's look at another aspect of this. We've all been nice enough to let this slide. Don't give me that look, of course Logan and I talked. We've had plenty of time, with you and Raven holed up in the training room. Starfire likes you. Likes you-likes you. If she doesn't go from cheerful to depressed if you ask some other girl out, do you know how awkward this would get? Starfire is bubbly, sure, but Koriand'r is a Tamaranean princess and a warrior. She might not pick moping."

"Nothing's going to happen."

Victor waited a moment, letting his mind catch up. "Easier said than done. She's smart, cute... probably lights up like halogen at a compliment. You have the chance to earn a lot of gratitude, right now, and I don't want you taking advantage of that. We all know she's not used to friends yet. Maybe some other time, she'd be ready, but she needs a friend, Tim."

"Thanks for not blasting me, at least," Tim said. He hadn't meant to admit it, and probably would have just let it dwindle to nothing- but it was easier to just have it off his chest.

"Not yet," Victor said. "She might feel something, but I don't know if she'd put together the emotion with what was going on."

Victor watched with interest as Tim blanched. He at least wasn't turning that interesting shade of pink anymore. "Forget she's an empath?"

"It kind of slipped my mind," Robin admitted. "I focus more on the telekinetic."

"Detective nothing," Victor said with a smile. "Now, as for the team relations, Logan doesn't have to know anything he doesn't figure out, and the two of you are finally getting along. It could be that you barely see each other, but we'll find out tomorrow.

"Team practice?"

Victor nodded. "It'd be a good idea. Maybe we could talk about nominating someone to lead on the field. I think that'd be you, but a decision like that has to be unanimous."

"Everyone writes down what they think, then," Tim said. "It's not personal, that way, and there won't be any pressure."

"Except on you, maybe," Victor said. "I think you have everything under control, but you might want to talk to Starfire."

"Vic, that could get-"

"Awkward, sure," Victor interrupted. "Still, you should. She goes up on the roof, just after sunset. It's a habit of hers. Logan and I both have talked to her a few times during it. Play your cards right, and Starfire won't chuck you off the edge."

"You know, Vic? That wasn't encouraging."

Victor's only reply was a shrug. "It was helpful, though, and that'll do you more good in the end."

* * *

Jinx rubbed her eyes. She didn't see how Gizmo could read document after document on a screen, but she had been the one to insist that she would do her own research. Gizmo had held back a few details, but they weren't useful, and he had only omitted to save time. She knew that, now, but…

Gizmo said she didn't trust him. She would have protested, but it was true. She didn't like lying, but it was safer. How was she supposed to know what he would do, in a crisis? When things went wrong she had no way of knowing he wouldn't jump off his high horse and run away down the low road.

She never had been good at the idiotic "trust-building" games the moronic counselors had tried to get her to play. It was a do-gooder camp for "troubled children," whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. She didn't care if the smiley-face "group cheerleader" was disappointed that she wouldn't play the falling game. Her leader had tried it, but most of the stupid little kids there would walk out on water if the girl had told them they could. If she fell back, the ground was hard, and it would be a lot closer if she leaned back. Someone could slip, even if they tried to catch her.

Jinx's hands had slipped, on 'accident,' when the stupid girl and her big smile fell back and it hadn't made a difference. All the other girls in her eight-to-ten-year-old "blue" group had caught her. The counselors had offered to place her into fast-track adoption. Kiddies out of the camp usually were snapped up fast by couples in suburbia; it was the latest politically correct fashion trend. Hybrid car, recycled paper, "troubled child" given a "second chance at life." They were like puppies, but they knew that they were supposed to be grateful that some philanthropist wanted an accessory.

It was better than juvie. It had been easier to steal from there. The counselors never locked up their things. They "trusted" her. It took them a couple weeks to figure out why cash had a habit of getting misplaced, in the radius of unlocked buildings near her cabin. Thieving was easy, especially when another girl had the bad luck to catch the blame. At first, the pink was just the occasional sparkle when someone else was affected by the bad luck that had followed her since birth but it started getting stronger.

She remembered the first beam of pink, the first visible exhibition. Jinx had taken to carrying money on her, so no one could discover her stash. She had created a fear of water early into the camp, and had given a few choked-up stories about how her "daddy" had taken her sailing.

The counselors had eaten it up like it was a hot-fudge sundae, thinking she was "opening up." Really, she wasn't going anywhere near the water, and it had nothing to do with her father. She had her share of scars, first off. Any kid that was on the streets started a collection. Second, she had enough bad luck without trying. She walked into doors. She tripped over her own shoelaces. She never won the chance for a whole week in her own room.

It was all Emily's fault. That was her name. Jinx had called her Smiley, but her name was Emily. Summer volunteer, ready to go to college, would chatter to anyone that would listen (and some that wouldn't) about how she wanted to be a pediatrician.

Jinx had been just sitting on the pier, and Emily had come up behind her. That was fine. Jinx had been there a month and a half, and she and Emily had an understanding. Jinx would glower, but she wouldn't make rude remarks about the other campers. All her sarcasm would be shared with Emily, who usually laughed at cutting remarks instead of being properly offended. Jinx would let Emily know, if there were any problems. The camp leaders might as well have just pasted a gold star on Emily's forehead. She could do no wrong, because she was bonding with their poster troubled child.

Jinx hadn't told the truth. She hated water, sure, but it wasn't because it reminded her of her daddy before he died. (She told the freaks she was an orphan, of course. Her birth certificate wasn't on public record, and orphans attracted less pity than kids who had parents that didn't give a shit.) It was because that's where her mom had left her, when she was six. Water park. It was supposed to have been a treat, since Jinx had been careful with her powers for a whole month.

Her luck wasn't that good. Jinx hadn't been too worried when she didn't see her mother for awhile. Her mother had hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, and said that she was going to buy ice cream for both of them. Jinx had waved, and only squirmed a little at an unexpected kiss. She hadn't said goodbye. She had been six. She couldn't decipher that weary, sad look on her mother's face.

She had waited in the water, which was warmer than the air, when the families started going home. Her mother would come back for her, with ice cream. The shop near the water park had run out. Maybe her mother had a whole other surprise. Jinx had been such a stupid little kid, and had stayed in that water past closing. She had been near the bottom of the water slide, sitting on the shelf where the pool became deeper.

An employee had found her, and the zit-faced kid had dropped his chlorine reader to fumble for his radio. He had scared her, with his height and loud voice, and she had hid in the shadows until a lady employee had coaxed her out of the pool and into a warm terrycloth robe that was too big for her.

Jinx slammed her fist on the table. She was too old for this shit! She was twenty-two, probably. Her mother hadn't been sure about her birthday. Her mother… Jinx couldn't decide if she wanted to sneer or frown. She never had gotten that ice cream, not that it mattered. It was stupid. She hadn't trusted anyone sense.

Emily had tripped, when she was coming close to coax Jinx into taking a swim. Jinx had fallen in the water. Cold, shadows, and with that blue tint that looked like that slide- she had freaked out, and the pier had collapsed. Jinx hadn't touched it, but a ray of pink had. The wood collapsed, and Emily had come close to drowning. Her head hit one of the posts, and a lifeguard had to drag her out.

Jinx hadn't known then what the tension beneath her skin was. It was most like putting on a tight wetsuit, but it went under her skin. It was always there, usually rippling and pulsing with a rhythm different than her heartbeat, and she almost always could control when the pink would lash out. Sometimes, though- sometimes she was scared, or startled, and things broke.

Emily had tried. Smiley was perfect, absolutely perfect, and afraid of her. Jinx could apologize a million times, and Emily wouldn't be the one person who would put up with all her shit anymore.

That night, Jinx had left with a little over four hundred dollars in cash and some diamond earrings the camp manager kept for greeting potential adoptive parents. She hadn't left a note, but she had picked a whole handful of the flowers Emily had liked- the blue ones with the stupid name- and left them on top of the counselor's duffle. Forget-me-nots, even if forgetting just would be easier.

Stupid. Jinx knew it was stupid, but... maybe. It felt good, to trust people, and just look where it led. Left, feared, and betrayed. She never should have trusted that Brother Blood guy. He had meant to lead a school, sure, but the government wanted to round up all the young hoodlums for "special care" "juvenile reformation services." From what she had heard that meant a few experiments, and never coming out again. She ran, and hadn't looked back.

She couldn't just be a petty criminal all her life. What good would that do? She could ask Gizmo for input, she supposed, but she wasn't going to trust him. She would leave him and Mammoth in a heartbeat, if it would be to her advantage. Once they understood that, then their "team" ideas could finally be over. She worked alone. The only person to let Jinx down was Jinx.

She was alone when she sent the first query to someone who was more than small-time- and alone when the response came, an hour later. She had read all the reports, and knew just what she wanted. The Patriots had to be stopped, she would need more help than muscle-for-hire and midget-electrician could give her.

They could say what they would. She was going to go somewhere.

* * *

He was doomed, Tim decided.

"Starfire?"

"You sound nervous, friend Timothy," she said with a frown. "Do you dislike heights? I know that you have not previously ventured to the roof."

He was doomed, and she could just be the most polite girl on the planet. "I wasn't sure if you wanted company."

"Sunsets are not made better by being alone," she said. "My parents said so, once."

"Are your parents still around?" he asked. _Of all the phrasing- she should through you off the roof. _

"Not precisely," she said, but she was smiling. "They both are living, but they are on Tamaran."

"Do you know how to get to Tamaran from here?" he asked, surprised that it was so easy to talk to her. _Of course it is. She likes you, remember? You didn't exactly discourage that. _

"Not directly, but I do know the way from your galaxy to the Andromeda. From there, I am familiar with the route home. It is not direct, but it would be simplest for me."

"Home for me isn't nearly as far, but I'd have to get on a plane. I'm from Gotham."

"You were a superhero there, as well," she said.

"I'm happier here as a hero, honestly. My mentor was a piece of work."

"This expression means that he is difficult, correct?"

He really shouldn't feel something tightening because someone else had taught her a new phrase. She hadn't had to ask him about that one- but he liked Raven. Didn't he? "Right," he said, and he wondered how the easy smile came to him. It was cheating, that she couldn't see his eyes when hers were so expressive.

"Was he the only reason that you left?"

"Not really. My dad and I had a few bad fights, and he didn't call after I sent a letter a few months ago. Batman was more inflexible than usual which meant that he was impossible to deal with. The first Robin and the original Batgirl are ignoring each other, nobody's talking about the one night stand he had with a mutual acquaintance, and that wasn't even the worst. My dad and I- we fought when someone I worked with died," he said, and he was relieved to finally say the words.

"She went by Spoiler. She started up being a hero because her dad was a criminal. She was impulsive and impetuous, and just everything. She drew the second Batgirl out of her shell... she just was that kind of girl."

"She is in the past tense, now?"

"She died, yes." He didn't know why he was telling her all this. "After that, Batgirl II became a criminal, and I just couldn't deal with Gotham anymore. Batman wasn't doing a thing to go after Batgirl, and was being more insensitive than usual, and my dad kept pushing that I should be normal. I don't think that I can be normal- and it all just got too crazy."

"Will you go back?" she asked.

"I will, sometime. Batman can't ignore something like just leaving, even if he was starting to think I should hang up the cape. My dad was furious that I wanted to put myself in more danger, by being a cop. I can't talk to the first Robin without being mad at him because he still won't talk to the first Batgirl." He stopped. "This doesn't make any sense to you, does it? I'm sorry for rambling."

"No, it does," she said. "You could have forgiven them for any one small betrayal, but as a whole it is far too much to just forget. If it had just been once, you may not have trusted them fully for some while, but you would have believed them again."

She knew. That direct look wasn't just her usual clear perception. Someone had turned against her. "Who was it?" he asked. For him, it had been a father and his "caped family."

"My sister."

"It's hard to start, but- it feels better, telling someone who's been there."

That was how he ended up sitting on the roof, long after the stars started to appear, learning about just what her sister had done. They didn't think to compare hardships. Instead, he had listened, as she had done, and then had asked if they could see her star.

It wasn't in sight, but she recognized other groups, and he dredged up every bit of astronomy he knew. He knew the Big Dipper, tracing to Polaris, and Cassiopeia's crooked W of a throne. She knew more, and it wasn't until he had looked away from the stars that he thought he could recognize the look in her eyes.

"_You and Starfire have… something. I'm not sure what's going on, but she kissed you and you didn't mind. Now, you're friends, and you and Raven- Tim, this is just weird, and it can't turn out pretty." _

He wished that Victor wasn't right. He and Starfire had the stars and common ground, but he knew how to find a smile in Raven's eyes.

This wasn't going to be pretty.


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT

_ The next chapter will be up soon. Things are starting to happen faster, so updates should follow suit.  
_

**CHAPTER EIGHT**  
"Hey, Jinx."

"What is it, Gizmo?" She tried to hide the irritation in her voice. He had been polite enough to knock, and hadn't tried to open the door, but she was busy. What if she had been on the phone?

"You looked distant almost all yesterday. I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"Fine," she said. "I already finished lunch. I know Mammoth has already found it, so you might not want to leave him too long."

"Leave off, Jinx. You know he makes sure that everyone else has had enough, and I already had lunch."

"Touchy," she said, snapping her phone shut. There was no way she would make this call while anyone else was butting in. What kind of sign was that? She needed a contact that could get her past robbing banks.

"I'll be out in half an hour. I'm talking to someone with insider knowledge about security. I think he'll be spooked if anyone else is around," Jinx lied. She had identified the other two as her subordinates. Any girl making it big time couldn't have two male partners. That just knocked her back down a level, and she didn't need Giz throwing a wrench in her story. Once she had the reputation to back up her original interpretations of the truth it wouldn't matter.

"Whatever, Jinx. You have the rest of today. If you're not going to tell us whatever the hell you're doing that let some crudmunching FBI agent come close to tapping into my signal, my signal isn't going to be here anymore. Mammoth's had it with the condescension. This is supposed to be a team, not a one-woman show."

"I'll talk to you at dinner," she said, biting the words off. She couldn't deal with them right now, she had to make a phone call. That was all she wanted, time on her own. None of this team junk. She would be better off alone.

"Dinner's at six," Gizmo said. "Be there with an explanation, or we're gone."

"I'll be there."

She didn't want to deal with them. Not her problem, but… going at this alone would be hard. Maybe they'd understand, and she wouldn't be able to handle all the electronics by herself. Her contact had promised assistance, but she wasn't any good at maintenance. She could fry any electrical system, but that often was not useful.

She would tell them, and then she'd just have to live with the consequences. Decision made, she dialed the number. The phone on the other line rang one, twice- "You have made a decision," he said, voice flat.

"When can you make the delivery, Mr. Lee?" Two could play that game. Her voice was detached and professional.

"Six sharp."

"We'll be ready." She sounded sure, but she wasn't. She was dealing with people that were way too big and facing them alone wasn't as exhilarating as she had hoped.

She set the phone down. Gizmo and Mammoth were in the kitchen. They ignored her when she entered, but she was tired of that game and starting to think she was in over her head. They would have a delivery in less than six hours and there was no way she could do this alone.

"Hey," she said, wondering where that confident version of herself had gone. "I think that I've been a bitch. Can we fix this?"

Gizmo hadn't expected the blunt phrasing; that was a bonus. Maybe this would work out. "We can fix this. First, what have you been up to?"

She started the basic explanation. Mammoth had a few comments. Gizmo wasn't quite as derisive as he could have been. Both of them were skeptical of the deal she had made but Gizmo had ideas that would improve what she wanted to do. They would be ready by six, and Jinx thought that she finally had made a right decision.

* * *

"You're early," she said, hearing him approach. She usually made some comment like that, just to ease away from her own awkwardness. Usually, he didn't respond. Usually... she turned around, and saw that he was human for the moment. It was barely late enough to be called evening, so it made sense that everything would be wrong.

"Early for what?" Logan asked gamely.

She blinked. Pinching herself would never work, if she was in a dream. It would hurt, because nightmares and dreams always did. If she could do something as simple as blink, it was real. Her father never would think to stop such an action.

"For- you know," she said, trying and failing to find the words. "What we've been doing for the past two weeks, at night," she said, hesitation growing. He shouldn't look at her that blankly. She didn't like confrontation. Everyone knew she would have lost, had she been forced to directly face her father. She had told Logan that. She knew it had been a mistake, telling someone things better left private, she hadn't wanted to be right.

"At night?" he asked.

"Yes." Maybe he understood.

He frowned, unsure what to say- she had brightened with that vague suggestion, but he didn't know what she was talking about. "Raven, I just noticed this spot yesterday, and thought it would be a good place to think. It's a bit more sheltered than the rest of the coast, that's all." He wasn't sure if she was playing at some kind of game. If she was, he didn't like it.

"I know that we haven't talked about it," she said, uncertain. "I thought that, well, if it was just us, and no one has ever listened like you have. I've never talked to anyone about my mother before, ever. My father, people ask about but you didn't even say a word and I could just talk and life would be normal in the morning."

"Maybe you were dreaming," he said, and the words were a question. "I would remember, Raven. I don't know anything about your mother, except that she must be human, if you're half demon."

She kept her impassivity, not caring just how hard it was. She didn't understand people at all, then. It wasn't just humor that left her confused. "I know when I dream," she said, her voice very quiet. "You didn't say anything, but even that doesn't mean that it was a dream."

"Whoa, back up here! Raven, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. I've been coming out here at night?"

"Always in the same form," she said, relieved that he was at least listening. She hadn't thought he was sleepwalking. "It's- I don't know. Big, and not like any animal I've heard of anywhere else. Sharp claws, a comparatively small head, very long arms, and a mane."

"I don't know, Raven. I remember different forms I've been in."

"Maybe I was only dreaming." That was worse than any denial he could make. She didn't think that he was lying. "Sometimes, I can't tell. My dreams always have been realistic." Some were real.

"Maybe I was sleepwalking or something, I don't know. Maybe you could wake me up next time? I'd be startled, maybe, but you could keep me from doing anything. I might be fast, but someone with powers that work long-range could beat me."

"Forget it," she said, and she walked inside. She just wanted to get away from all of this. She had been wrong, she was over it, it didn't need to become messier.

* * *

She had until eight o'clock to make her decision, and two minutes just wasn't enough time.

Darcy Whittaker, the right decisions and the right politics. That's what her flyers said, but she didn't know what decision to make. The Patriots could give her what she wanted but that was handing them a political credit card with their name on it. They had influence. Why did they want her? Even if she won, why would their great political net need the mayor of a dive like Jump City? She was a shoo-in for election, according to the political advisors. All she had to do was not mention the raging scandal in her opponent's candidacy, smile pretty for the cameras, and look smart enough to write her pre-typed speeches herself.

She didn't like that part of politics. She wanted to write her own material, to hear the crowds cheer because of some phrase _she _had penned. Sure, part of it was delivery, but she didn't want to owe her success to anyone else.

7:59, and she knew what she was doing. She felt a smile start, one that was far too predatory for the pretty, perky candidate. She was going to deviate from the script tomorrow when she was at the debate. She was going to be a hardline candidate who spoke out against graft. What would she need favors for? She would make connections, of course, and she could do this herself.

She glanced at her nails as she reached for the phone. The manicure would have to go. She needed more practical nails if she was going to type up her outline by the morning debate. She found solvent in the drawer. Chloe wasn't there to gasp in shock as Darcy ruined perfectly good acrylics and was left with stubby nails. It had taken her four minutes, but she had ideas for the speech. She wouldn't sling mud- but she would point out just why the scandal made her opponent unsuited.

8:03. Perfect. She was smiling as she dialed, and she could feel the honey-sweet tone in her voice. "Mr. Summers," she said.

"You're late, Ms. Whittaker, but I will hear your decision."

"Not interested," she said coolly, examining her short nails. A couple coats of clear polish would fix up the residue left, and Chloe would get over it. Darcy was going to be wearing pants, too, not the skirted suit Chloe liked better. It was three weeks into October. There was no way she was going to wear a skirt in this weather, and she just had bought a dress jacket that buttoned the right way.

"You are certain?"

Darcy had heard that hesitation but she didn't point it out. "Completely. Thank you for your time, Mr. Summers." She hung up the phone, and didn't feel any regret. Her outline could wait. She had a hunch and internet access. She found a search engine, typed in one word, and started looking for the information she needed.

* * *

"Logan said that he just saw Raven, so he shouldn't be much longer," Tim said. "We did much better in the team simulator, but I think everyone agreed that having a field leader would simplify things. If it's not unanimous, we'll decide some other time what we want to do. Everyone needs to be on the same idea, for leader, or it'll be chaos."

"That is a good plan. Tamaranean leaders of small groups are nominated by the same process."

"Raven!"

Raven walked past them. Quickly.

"Raven, what's wrong?" Cyborg asked. Logan had been following her, but wasn't interested in a chase. She paused, and Cyborg pressed that advantage. "Talk to us- we just were going to vote for a field leader, after that practice session today."

She glanced at Logan. "I was mistaken about something, that's all."

What was he supposed to say? Logan hadn't done anything that he could remember. If she was trying to make him feel guilty- it was starting to work, and it wasn't even his fault. "Maybe we can figure it out later," he said. "Tim, you mentioned something about a vote?"

"Right," Tim said, a moment too late. "I know we mentioned at the group practice this morning that we could try voting for a field leader. If it's not anonymous- null vote, maybe we'll try again later."

"Fine. I vote for Robin," she said. "Is that all?"

"We meant to do it with ballots, but-"

"Raven, would you just talk to me?" Logan asked. "Maybe you've been talking to me, at night, but it can't have gone both ways. Don't block me out."

"Logan, give her space."

"Back off, Tim," Logan warned. "This isn't about you- I've barely seen her for over a week. I know there's been less tension, but whenever I tried to talk to her, she was training, meditating after training, or asleep."

"_She _is standing right here," Raven said coldly.

"Please, friends, do not argue."

"Chill, guys- Star has the right idea. Can't we all just talk-"

"I do not want to talk," Raven said. "I just need to think. Do I need permission for that, now? It has been a long week, and we do have practice tomorrow."

"You're going to go back to avoiding me, Raven?" Logan asked. "You're either alone or with Tim, it seems like- but that's your choice. If you want to talk to me about whatever happened- I'm pretty easy to find. I want to believe you, but I don't know what you're talking about."

"I can't deal with this," Raven said, turning. She stopped when he put a hand on her shoulder and took a deep breath. "Logan," she said, her voice perfectly even.

"Logan, back off."

"No one asked you to get involved, Tim," Logan snapped.

"Please do not fight," Starfire said.

"Timothy, I don't need help," Raven said. "Logan, please give me time to think about this."

"Both of you, back off." Victor stepped in- Logan had taken his hand back, but Tim did not look very friendly. "Tim, Raven can take care of herself. Logan, she wants time. Raven, no one else has any idea what's going on, and I'm a walking polygraph machine. Nobody's lying."

"Somebody needs to watch out for her," Tim protested.

"I was doing just fine," Logan retorted.

"Just perfectly. She wasn't very happy with your efforts."

Enough was enough. "Stop it!" Raven's voice had never sounded so loud in her ears. "Tim, Logan- stop talking about me in the third person, stop the posturing, and stop trying to give an empath a headache." From what she felt, it was almost like- no. No way. They couldn't.

Maybe an explanation would help. "Logan, you've been going to the shore, every night. You never talk, and I can't recognize the form, but I doubt that the island has really big four-pawed solid green wildlife."

"The Tower has security cameras," Victor said. "They're not monitored except by a program that recognizes circumstances. I have access, but this stuff is only outside and in the common rooms. We all talked about it, and know that anything exciting is best left for your room." It took him only that long to find the image. He projected it in front of him, on a small scale.

"That's him," Raven confirmed softly, watching the image. Her holographic self leaned against the large green figure, and the smallest of pink tinges heated her cheeks. It wasn't much, but she was uncomfortable with contact.

"That's me," Logan said, puzzled. It had to be, even if he couldn't remember ever seeing that animal. "I don't remember, but this at least makes sense now. I'm-"

"Don't say sorry," Raven interrupted. "It's real, and that's what matters." More proof that she wasn't crazy. She couldn't help smiling, just a little. She was looking at Logan when she felt a sharp spike of emotion from Timothy. Envy? She half-turned, smile failing. The look on Tim's face was too clear to need empathy and something was stirring in Starfire.

Victor wasn't a telepath, but he felt that he could read something when Raven glanced at him just for that moment. "Tim," Victor warned, voice quiet. He wished that he didn't have to say it but the damage had been done. He hadn't thought anything could crush Starfire.

Raven looked from Tim to Logan to Tim and back again, and started to understand the complicated web of emotions just a little more. She had almost traced the threads back around the person who had felt them when the entire tangle exploded outwards into yelling and disagreements.

"Is _that _why you were training her?" Logan demanded. "All that extra time- that's not what we're here for, Tim!"

"Like you should talk- you claim that you don't remember all those nights you spent with her?"

"Guys-" Cyborg began, but the yelling only grew louder.

"She needs a _friend_," Logan said.

"She is standing right here!" Raven yelled, repeating her earlier words even as her usual mantra for meditation played relentlessly in the back of her mind. _Azarath Metrion Xinthos Azarath Metrion Xinthos I will _not _lose control Azarath Metrion Xinthos..._

"You are interested in more than this from friend Raven?" Starfire asked, expression between shocked and hurt. "Timothy, we shared confidences last night."

"Cyborg told me to talk to you," Tim said. "I knew it wouldn't work."

"Otherwise you would not have?" Starfire shook her head, quickly, trying to deny the idea. "You have not my vote for field leader, because I cannot trust you when you are careless with personal decisions."

"Tim, stop trying to make this a competition. I'm not interested in a big relationship, just friendship," Logan said.

"It's not a competition, Logan- and Starfire, I didn't mean-"

"I am not a prize," Raven interjected. "I-"

"All of you, knock it off!" Victor roared. He might as well have said it in binary.

"I will not spend time with either of you," Raven continued, as if she hadn't been interrupted. "I didn't want this. I don't want this kind of attention!"

"You certainly attract it, for remaining uninterested," Starfire snapped.

"It's not like she came on too strong, Starfire."

"Tim!" Victor didn't know where this was going to go- and there was no way he could stop Batman's sidekick, an alien, a half-demon, and a shapeshifter.

"You are one to talk! As I recall, you remained interested for a time, but you are interested only in girls that remain interesting to you! You would have ignored her for someone more fascinating to you within a month."

Tim yelled a reply, Logan attacked those words, and Starfire was angry again. Victor was the only person in the room that was somewhat calm, and he was beginning to lose the many barriers to his temper. Raven would have protested a comment that she did not like but her control was slipping. She grabbed for it, mentally, using hands that weren't hands and refusing to believe that it would be difficult.

Raven could stop it, she knew. It would be easy. Three people yelling to silence, but she wouldn't. Not that way. Instead, she gathered black around her hands. "Everyone," she said. "Stop, or I will stop you."

They at least had stopped fighting each other. Now, all three were focusing on her.

"You're not fast enough," Tim said, voice low.

"Let's not find out," Raven said. "Please, could we just- stop? I don't like fighting, I don't like confrontations- it's not supposed to be like this."

Starfire realized that her clenched fists were glowing- she relaxed, slowly. "I apologize, friend Raven. I should have realized that some people will not listen to reason, and volume will not aid this."

"Starfire," Victor said, "could we keep the fighting-"

"Do not speak to me of that, Victor," she said, eyes flashing. "You were aware of Timothy's feelings for friend Raven, and still encouraged him to speak with me. Such manipulations would be most frowned upon, on Tamaran."

"Starfire," Logan said, "can we just- how about we just don't talk about this? It's getting pretty late. We can just all save this for morning, right?"

"That would be satisfactory," Starfire said, and the last fluorescence in her eyes faded.

"Sorry," Raven said, for once not making eye contact.

"Hey, it worked," Victor said. "I think we all can agree with Logan for once. We all can just let this cool down, right?" He wasn't sure how that could work, when Starfire and Tim still were avoiding eye contact, Logan and Tim were carefully staying away, and Raven still was frowning.

Victor just had worked out a tentative agreement for a civilized conversation the next day over a full breakfast, his treat, when the alarm rang. There wasn't just trouble inside the Tower. He was the one to read through the details, make a quick call to the chief of police for the best approach, and glance at the other four.

"Let's go."


	9. CHAPTER NINE

_The brief summation of the conflict in the last chapter:  
Star likes Tim, Tim likes Rae, Logan likes Rae, Rae was being nice for reasons Logan has no idea about, Vic's trying to keep the peace, Vic knew Tim likes Rae and didn't tell Logan or Star, and it keeps going from there.  
Thanks for reading, please leave a review to let me know what you think._

**CHAPTER NINE**  
"Jinx, the cops are bringing in the Titans."

"You're almost done here, right?" she asked, glancing at the gutted electronics store. The backroom had held the parts they needed. "My contact promised that we could beat the Titans with the new weapons, and you know that they blasted right through a force field. You're better with this stuff than I am.."

"This tech is past me," Gizmo said. "I still don't like the extra space near the trigger. The plasma mix is all generated at the back of the barrel, then shot forward with some kind of pressure mechanism. It's not ergonomic, and it just doesn't look right."

"You can rebuild them later, if you'd like," Jinx said. "If that's the case, should we pick up anything else? A few of these electronics look like they could be adapted, even if the controls were originally meant for video games."

"Yeah, those could work," he said, taking a few boxes. "You still want to confront the Titans?"

"We're fighting long range, and both of us can supplement that. Some of the stuff we have looks pretty delicate, and Mammoth can defend himself on the way back."

"He can defend himself, and he's not so great with aiming a weapon," Gizmo said with a nod. He added a few last items to their haul before walking to the front of the store, where Mammoth was standing guard.

"Hey, Mammoth. Jinx is getting better about this. We're going to be fighting long-range, and you don't need any help getting back. All that, and you're much stronger than either of us."

"You two will be fine?"

"Right," Gizmo said. "You won't mind too terribly if I borrow your weapon? I have a robotic scope that's a better shot than me."

Mammoth handed it over without comment.

"Thanks. Good luck on your way back, and remember. If you run into trouble, just hit the communicator. We'll do the same, if we need you more than we need the electronics. Sure, it would be nice if I could make sure no fed came near my signal again, but if I'm gone, so is that possibility."

"And that's all?"

Gizmo smiled. "Nah, then you'd miss out on someone who can program the DVD player to record shows. We'll meet you back at the base. I'll let you know just how late we'll be."

Jinx was there a few seconds later. "I'm going to be better at this," she said. "The two of you had a conversation, and he just said eight words."

"Boulders are more subtle, but he does have a sense of humor sometimes. You're doing better already, and if these things stall, then we exit stage left and find your Mr. Lee."

Jinx looked over the weapon. "So, Gizmo, you're the expert. Point and shoot?"

"Point and shoot. The media darlings just showed, so shall we go say hello?"

She took aim at a store across the side street, and fired. Her target, a painted letter on a window, was engulfed for a fraction of an instant in a glowing light before the entire glass shattered. "I don't know what this is, but I like it."

"It shoots like a fragment of laser, but the light's too many shades of colors in the white, and the edges are too soft." Gizmo put just a touch of pressure on the trigger, feeling the reaction. "Whatever it is, it works." He didn't have time to puzzle out just how the devices worked. He could do that after the fight.

"What was our grand plan? Knock them out cold and then saunter away?"

"Saunter quickly," he warned. "Even with the Titans out, the police will be there, and we're not bulletproof."

* * *

Raven and Starfire had flown downtown, just ahead of the T-Car. They could have worked out a seating arrangement that probably wouldn't have made anyone mad, but it was easier to just stay away.

"I did know that there was some kind of crush," Raven said, pitching her voice to carry. They were moving fast, but flying was much easier for her after all the practice. "I thought it was you. I could have looked closer, but I try not to pay too much attention to emotions. Besides, I didn't really expect that, and I know he had changes in emotions whenever you were around."

"I believe that I will be able to work with him, given time to have some fresh air," Starfire said. "I just could not understand it, when he had just spoken with me about why he left Gotham."

"I don't understand it, either," Raven said. "He's never talked about anything that personal with me. Maybe a few stories about when he was just starting as Robin, but he barely mentioned Batman. I think he's just confused."

"I am not angry with you," Starfire said, after a moment. She didn't want to talk about Tim. "For stopping the fight. I believe I was most surprised that you would indeed have that sort of power. You are doing much better, you know. When we met, you looked most tired after just moving a lamppost that I had knocked over."

"I'm surprised too, honestly, but I could have done it. It's scary. Most of the time, I haven't controlled my powers when the really crazy things happened. I stopped time on Azarath, once, when a monk was reiterating just why I had to stay in control."

"It is good to be cautious," Starfire said. "The beams that come from my eyes are not natural, among Tamaraneans. I am far stronger than most people on this planet, and I am very careful when performing physical fighting. Some foes, such as Cinderblock, can withstand more of a direct hit, but most of the time my blows would not be more than a glancing blow to a Tamaranean opponent." Her usual punches would likely shatter bones, Cyborg had thought. She frowned- why had Cyborg gotten involved?

"Whatever else happened- I think that I'm a better fighter, after the last week or so. I was raised by pacifists, not warriors."

"I believe that we all will sort out these things," Starfire said. "The others will understand that you do not like to be confrontational, and realize that you did stop the fight. Most of the surprise may have been that you were the assertive figure in stopping such a thing. I think that you did the right thing. Otherwise, we still would have been arguing when the call came."

"Starfire?"

"Yes?"

"I never encouraged him. I didn't talk about Azarath, I just… learned how to fight. Right now, he'd give me a headache if I stayed near him for an hour. He's confused, and he still likes you."

Starfire was quiet for a second. "Perhaps it still can work. Thank you, friend Raven."

They were descending when Starfire spoke again. "Give Logan a chance, as well. I do not believe he was deceiving you."

"He wasn't lying," Raven said. "Victor has mentioned that he can use technology to discover when someone is lying. Unless Logan has somehow learned to manipulate all his emotions so that there is no trace of such a manipulation, but I am not quite that paranoid."

"We can continue this later, yes? Perhaps we can also speak with Victor, and then bring all the Titans together."

"Maybe we can be the ones to start," Raven said as they touched down. She concentrated on the landing- it was the hardest part, as she blocked all thoughts of falling from her mind. "I know that you are irritated with Robin, but he does have the most experience with this type of fighting."

Starfire nodded, her focus already on the three Titans leaving the car. "Robin," she called. "Perhaps we can have a vote now. Personal problems can be left for out of uniform. You would be the most logical choice for a field leader."

"My vote is with Robin as well," Raven said before pulling up her hood.

"It makes sense to me," Cyborg said. "I vote for Robin."

Logan only hesitated for a moment. This wasn't personal; this was about the city. "We need a field leader that has had experience with just about everything. What are we doing, Robin?"

Robin didn't have time to wonder if the team just might fix their problems. They had a job to do. He looked over the situation in a glance. "It's just Jinx and Gizmo, unless they're trying to save Mammoth for stealth. They're not stupid. Mammoth is probably transporting stolen goods back to whatever hole they're hiding in. It would be easiest to tail him, but they have to have something up their sleeve if they're confronting us instead of relying on trickery.

"Cyborg, can you see what they're holding from here?"

"Guns of some kind. Very narrow in the muzzle, thick grip. They're some new kind of tech, and made out of a high-end polymer. Solid white."

"Starfire, Cyborg, you can fight from long range. Changeling and I will stand back unless the fighting gets close- we're no use at range. Raven, can you cover us?"

"Yes, especially if anyone not fighting stays down."

"I think that's our plan," Robin said. "Any objections?" He paused. It was better to take care of potential problems before the fight. "Titans, get into position."

"Good calls," Changeling murmured as Starfire and Cyborg moved forward, firing their first shots. Starfire took to the air almost instantly, for the classic high ground. Changeling glanced at the shadows to check that they were facing east. Robin had pointed out where Cyborg should park. "They're looking into the sun, we have a couple people in reserve. If things go wrong, I can fly in to grab someone out. I think you're just giving orders, in a long-range fight." He was angry with Tim, not Robin.

"About before-"

"Later, Robin," Changeling said, making sure the words weren't harsh. "That's personal, and this isn't. Right now, it's about making sure the other three are safe, not that we should have many problems." He watched black cover a shining white burst of… something. "Raven's reaction time is much faster."

"She had that all along, really, but going on the offense was a new concept. All she really mentioned about growing up was that no one wanted her to use too much power, and that her caretakers were devoted to pacifism."

"She's moving closer." Changeling forced himself to not tense. He didn't trust the two criminals, and tensing wouldn't help him. "Cy and Star are covering her, but why's she that close?"

"She has a very impressive range, but she has to be able to focus on what she's going to do. She uses mental images, usually taken straight from visual clues."

"What happens if she can't see?"

"I hadn't thought of that, honestly, I was just working on the strengths she has," Robin said sheepishly.

Changeling shook his head. "Don't be hard on yourself, that's not for this fight. I think she's trying to get those guns away from them so Star and Cy can move in. I know Cyborg made a few new additions for when he ran into the short guy."

"There it is," Robin said, trying to not focus on how odd this was. He hadn't expected everyone to put aside a fight like that for the job. Just about any criminal in Gotham knew when Batman was having a bad day. "She stole one off Cyborg's 'friend'- but now the pink one's aiming for her."

"How long can she keep those shields?"

"At least an hour of use like this," Robin said. "Shields aren't hard. They're thinner than a piece of paper, and she doesn't have to focus on their shape. An all-around containment field is trickier to picture, which is why she can't just wrap those two in black energy until they're unconscious."

Changeling blinked a few times, focusing. "Don't know why I didn't think of this before- there. I don't have to make a full change, sometimes, and the kind of raptors with feathers and talons can pick out details from this distance."

"What do you see?"

"I'm adjusting, at the moment, but-" Changeling stopped. "Cyborg! Star! Get her out of there!" he yelled into the communicator held in his fist. "Robin," he said, continuing quickly but at a quieter volume, "Jinx just adjusted a setting, and I don't trust her as far as a gorilla could-"

They were almost sixty yards from the action. Robin could only see the largest details, but Changeling saw a pale hand clench on the dull white plastic. The gun didn't emit a foot-long beam. Instead, it shook. Jinx threw it away from herself, and he saw white light explode outwards from the gun before it was surrounded with black.

The white broke out, and black covered it again. He couldn't keep track of the flashes, but black and white flashed as the shields grew larger and larger as Jinx and Gizmo ran back-

"Raven!"

Starfire was there first, and caught Raven before she fell. The concrete was shattered for a ten-foot radius, the only remaining sign that something had happened. The shields had finally contained the burst.

"I'm okay," Raven said. Her breathing was hard, but the fight was over. Gizmo had fled, and Jinx had tripped when the concrete broke under her feet. "Jinx hit her head pretty hard, I think, and Gizmo turned down a near side alley. I don't believe that he has left the area."

"I don't think that they meant to do that," Cyborg said. "Whatever weapon that was... I ran a few stats. Raven, I just need a couple answers. Was there any heat, or sound?"

"The only sound was the concrete breaking, and I don't think there was any heat. Why?" Raven asked.

"Thermodynamics."

Starfire was the one to respond. "What does this have to do with such questions, friend Cyborg?"

"Sorry. Running a few more calculations. Energy can't be created or destroyed, that's basic physics. If there wasn't a change in temperature, the only energy put out in that burst was through light and the destructive effects. From what I saw of the hits, those beams made anything they hit vibrate like crazy in the fractions of a millisecond before it shattered."

Robin heard the explanation. "What happened with those beams to cause the vibration?"

"It's something I've only seen inside a lab. Expensive chemistry uses infrared spectroscopy to identify unknown materials. That light wasn't infrared. There was visible light emitted, but only because the air reacted with the beams. There should have been some small burst of particles shot out of the gun, to cause the reaction, and they would have to emit light in the infrared and gamma spectrum."

Cyborg paused. Three blank faces were watching him, and Robin would burst something trying to put it together if he went on too long. "The energy put out by that weapon was so strong that it made any molecules it touched shake, and the electrons in the atoms went crazy. That's why all the light was given off. Tthere were enough colors that the light looked white, most of the time. I know that they didn't mean to turn it into a bomb, or at least I hope they didn't. Just going off the light and the damage, that could have obliterated everything in a forty-yard radius."

Raven decided that was enough science for the day. "Jinx is going to wake up with a nasty headache. I can heal her, but then I won't be up for fighting." No one else had been hurt, at least.

"I will assist you, Raven," Starfire offered.

Raven walked without help, not trusting her usual levitation. She balanced easily on mostly-steady ground, one knee helping her keep that balance. Black energy moved Jinx gently onto her back. Raven placed a hand on Jinx's forehead, and only needed to sustain the white glow for eight breaths.

"She'll wake up soon," Raven said, rising. "It wasn't as bad as it looked. Any blood remaining will wash off without any problem."

"You guys can go ahead." Cyborg found a short figure in just seconds with his infrared array. "I'll be back later."

"Cyborg, you were our ride out here," Changeling reminded him. He and Starfire could fly back, but Raven was tired and Robin wouldn't have much luck.

"I'm staying in town for awhile," Robin said. "I'll talk to the police for awhile, and try to get them to let someone else take the investigation. Were you going to talk to Gizmo and Jinx, Cyborg?"

Cyborg nodded. "Whenever she wakes up."

"I believe that I will be fine on the way back, but Starfire can help me if that is not the case," Raven said. She didn't think Starfire would disagree but was relieved when Starfire agreed. She hadn't realized just how much she relied on the team until it had almost been gone.

"Cy and I can bring back dinner," Robin said. "It's late, and we never did get around to that."

"Sounds good," Changeling said. "You can handle the paperwork?"

"The chief would deal with a case this big, and he won't be surprised if I can fill it out without help. I'll be ready whenever Cy is."

"Let us return home, then. Raven looks fatigued." Starfire made it clear that she would not accept other opinions, as Raven did look tired. She waited for Raven to take to the air, then followed. Changeling looped around them as a falcon, and the three headed west- back to the Tower.

* * *

It took every ounce of self-control she had not to cringe away when she felt the hand on her shoulder, warm metal fingers touching her neck.

_Wait- metal? _She kept her breathing steady, getting a bearing on her surroundings with senses that weren't sight. As soon as she had some idea of what was going on, she would know how to act. Warm metal, good joint control, and no prison holding cell police would let a superhero into would be sour with alcohol, vomit, and urine. The ground beneath her was cement, and with the way the sound echoed, she was in an alley, and there was a hand resting on her shoulder with fingers at her neck gently taking a pulse.

_Three. Two. _

She sprang up, smacking the arm aside with a brisk chopping motion, and had her back against the wall with a pair of hexes ready in her palms before he could finish falling backwards.

Her breathing was heavy, though it meant that she was taking in the unique cologne of a back alley. He must have been crouching next to her, balanced to fall back if he would tip. What was he up to?

"I don't know what you want, but if you touch me again, I swear that you'll have some very bad luck." She tried to think calming thoughts, but anger and more than a little fear had quickened her pulse. She could deal with waking up in an alley, and had done that before with a worse headache. It was the superhero sentry she had a problem with.

"You took a nasty hit to the head," he said. She noticed that he kept his arms pointed straight at the ground, as relaxed as she supposed a robot could be. "The team and I didn't think you'd want to wake up on our island, so I stayed back to make sure you were okay. The alley probably wasn't very hygienic, but it was out of sight and relatively clean."

She should have one hell of a bruise. Her gun had exploded, and their witch had been doing some crazy thing with shields that made a strobe light out of the weapon. She had tripped, and her forehead had made contact with the concrete. "You caught us breaking the law. I thought you and the police were buddies." There was no way to casually feel her forehead, but she brushed her bangs back in the same motion.

"We are, but we don't report to them. I don't think you deserve aggravated assault with a deadly weapon. All we want is to know your supplier."

"Is that all?" The pink glow in her hands, but she was just as ready to fire. Tension pulled beneath her skin. Dammit, she hated these cat and mouse games.

"Are you going to take me in after on reduced charges?" she asked bluntly. "If you try, you'd be wasting your time. I would bring that brick wall down on both of us first." It didn't matter that he knew her grand plan. As far as plans went, it sucked.

"I'm not going to bring you in. I stayed to make sure you'd be okay, and to try getting a name. A teammate of mine healed the worst of it, and she said that she didn't think you had a concussion." Her eyes weren't dilated, so she probably was good- though he didn't know exactly how dilated slit pupils could become. He probably didn't have room to talk, with his eye missing on the left, but it was odd to look into pink cat's-eyes.

"I just want to know who gave you those weapons, but I'm not the forcing type. You could walk away right now, if you'd like. I wouldn't stop you."

"Right," she said, eyes searching for targets when it stopped being such a friendly arrangement.

"I promise, no tricks. I never lie to a pretty girl."

Who did he think he was? She glared. Hero or not, the guy was too much. "You could lie and say that you never lie, and maybe I'm not a pretty girl."

"Whoever gave you the second idea was lying, and as for the first, maybe you could try trusting me. My best reason is that I don't have any persuasive way to get you to believe me."

The argument would have been too much without the flirting. "So, I should trust you because I have no reason to." She relaxed only enough to rest her hands on her hips. Two could play the flirting game, and the hero wasn't so good that her slight shift in posture didn't go unnoticed. "Not because you're a good guy?"

"I've known 'good' guys I wouldn't trust at all- I could throw them pretty far, so the usual expression doesn't fit. For this... well, we're in an alley. This isn't my first pick of a place to spend a night." It was starting to get dark. Cyborg decided to give a little information to see what he could get.

"I already talked to Gizmo. He's waiting somewhere around here for you, and mentioned that he already talked to Mammoth back at the homestead. Gizmo gave me some details about your supplier and his thoughts on how those weapons work, but all he could say was that 'Mr. Lee' was in contact with you." Cyborg could play back segments of that interview, if necessary, but she relaxed.

'Homestead' was one of their pet phrases for the hideout. Cyborg wouldn't have just guessed it. "I contacted Mr. Lee," she said. "He claimed to be working against the Patriots, but that was wrong." Her last decision hadn't worked so well. This time, she would ask Gizmo and Mammoth before making any promises. "He wanted us out of the way, and probably any Titans that went out with us. I'll talk to my team before giving you any ideas- but I will forward all of our correspondence to you. I assume that you have e-mail?"

"I have internal calculators that estimate that your impromptu explosive could have taken out everything within one hundred twenty feet. E-mail doesn't even take up that much memory."

"What's your address, then?"

"I have sixteen different kinds of screwdrivers, but no pen and no paper."

Jinx would have smiled but that could give him the wrong idea. Overly earnest, too good to be true- standard-issue hero of the week, even if he was kind of cute. _Jinxy, you hit your head a little too hard, _she told herself firmly. "I have a good memory, as long as it's not 32-bit encrypted."

"Cyborg at Jump City dot C A dot U S. No space in Jump City."

"Creative. Never would have guessed," she drawled. It was time for a sauntering exit- she was too tired to run, and that just gave the wrong idea. If he had set a trap (why didn't that seem like a possibility?), she would just make damn sure it went wrong. Very, very wrong. "I'm leaving. If I see you tailing me, I'll make sure you regret it. I don't care if it's the last thing I do. I'm bound to go down sometime."

He had some last comment, but she ignored him. Everything about the hero unsettled her, to be honest: some teammate of his had healed her, he was letting her walk away, and then there was Gizmo.

"Jinx," he said. That was it, just her name, but Gizmo sounded relieved, and something clicked. They hadn't left her high and dry. She was actually safer with a team. She could trust them, and they just might not let her down.

"I'm e-mailing the robot all the contact information. I'll even send in a few notes about the man's speaking voice on the phone," she said. "He's letting us walk. I don't want to change his mind." Now, it was time for something new. "We can talk about this as a team back at home, but you can at least tell me if it's a horrible idea."

Gizmo didn't comment about her last idea- she hadn't known, and something had gone right. They had a full stash of loot back at their place, and the Titans were more concerned with the big picture. "Which idea is this?"

"Lee screwed us over," she said. Why take the time to phrase things delicately? It just made the intended meaning difficult to figure out. "The Titans would love to find a certain Mr. Lee and return the favor. What do you say?"

Gizmo grinned. He knew what Mammoth would say, and they could pose the question later to make it a team effort. "When do we start?"


	10. CHAPTER TEN

_Thanks to all reviewers, past, present, and future. Happy new year. (I'm only a day late.)  
_

**CHAPTER TEN**  
"Titans' Tower."

"Hi- um, Cyborg, right?"

"Right."

"This is Darcy. Darcy Whittaker. I'm-"

"Against metas," Victor supplied helpfully. It was too early for this, and coffee would take at least another minute. "Electronic memory. It's just about eidetic, and I have almost instantaneous cross-referencing. The Titans won't be any help in a mayoral campaign."

"Well, actually, it's nothing personal. I was following public opinion, and-"

"Ms. Whittaker. I'm sure that this is early for you." It was early for him. The other Titans were still asleep or at least still in their rooms. Their fight against Jinx and Gizmo was the main news, and he had been quoted about just what the weapons had done. Whittacker's exposé about some political scandal or other was relegated to a small headline below the fold.

"Well, it is, but that's not really a problem. I'm used to all hours, which helps. That's a part of my job." Darcy was babbling. She could admit to it, not that that admission improved anything.

"I hope that you typically do better in an interview situation."

"I know that what I said before is wrong," she said. She couldn't lose him and the words were true.

He didn't trust candid remarks from reporters or politicians. "What do you want and why should I help you?"

"I want to get elected, which is a side concern. I'm trying this honesty business. Politicians aren't used to it."

"Cute," Cyborg said flatly. "Let's get to the why, shall we?"

"I'm not used to meta business, but- okay, I'll start at the beginning." He didn't sound very pleased, but he hadn't hung up the phone. She still had a chance.

"That would be a good place," he said. He had coffee. From a technical standpoint, caffeine had no effect on the electronics that made up parts of his brain. He didn't care, and excluded thoughts of the placebo effect from his mind. "First, is this urgent?"

"No, I don't believe so. I'm not at my office, and won't be expected back for several minutes."

"Someone at your office is a threat?" he asked.

"Perhaps... I'm not sure. I'm calling from my home. I intentionally spilled my coffee. I was wearing a light skirt, so of course I had to go and change. I have a press conference later today, and I didn't want Raul to hear me."

This sounded promising, at least- and it was Raven's turn to deal with breakfast. He just needed to find out if she knew anything useful. "Start at the beginning, then- first give me the main ideas, and then we'll work through details.

Raven entered the kitchen just as he was finishing the phone conversation. She didn't look mad at him but it was hard to tell, with Raven. His usual sensors weren't strong enough to pick up something from her.

She ignored the coffee, as usual, and had the kettle on the stove with a careless flick of her hand. She didn't need the hand gestures, but had mentioned that they helped her to visualize what she wanted to happen. She opened the refrigerator with a similar casual movement, and everything she needed floated over to the counter.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Whittaker," he said when she had run through the details a second time. It probably hadn't been necessary, but he thought that she needed the chance to calm down. He felt a smile at her very businesslike call-me-Darcy. If she could keep up her sudden reformation, he just might vote for her. The other politician wasn't any better, and she could have gone to the papers with the information she had just spelled out for him.

Raven looked away from the start of French toast. Logan avoided meat, but eggs weren't a problem. "Whittaker like the upstart politician?" Raven asked.

"Whittaker as in the politician," Victor confirmed as he set the phone down. "She called with a possible lead, not that she realizes it. Dinner last night was a bit tense, and everyone went off to sleep afterward. I didn't get the chance to ask how you were."

"I'm fine," Raven said, looking back at the mixture of eggs and milk. "Starfire and I have already agreed that we are not at all irritated with each other. Yesterday, I did not like how Tim and Logan were so fast to fight each other over me. Now, I feel that interaction with either will be awkward."

"Nobody meant to cause all this," Victor said.

"I know, and I am not at all irritated with you. Starfire is, a little." Raven waited for the griddle to reach the right temperature. "You told Tim to go talk to her, and- why did all of this turn into such a mess?"

"I don't know how it snowballed so fast, but there was a lot of tension we all were ignoring. Tim doesn't get it. Logan worked with him on the field, but the instant Tim was back at the Tower…"

"They were back to fighting," Raven said. The griddle was already hot enough; it was a much better griddle than the poor abused appliance she had finally had to abandon. "The costumes only make it worse. Most he-men only have power tools to amuse their egos."

"Raven, you are talking to a guy."

"Starfire's not awake and you're the only other person in this building that isn't attracted to me," Raven said, directing her glare at breakfast. She didn't need a spatula, and didn't have to get anything on her hands. "If you decide to change that... I don't know. I didn't want this to happen, Vic, and I can't imagine how I encouraged them." She dropped two coated pieces of bread on the griddle.

"You could take it as a compliment. They can't help what they're feeling and even if it was a bit obvious at one point, they're protective of you. You're an empath, so you have a good advantage. You know what they feel. If they just were interested in a one night stand, you'd know." And Victor would pound them into the ground, but that was beside the point.

She didn't smile. "They're not, but I only say that because I know them. I don't know enough about all these emotions. Azar and the rest of the people around me when I grew up made me look exuberant."

"At least you're learning something," Victor said. "Raven, are you really surprised by the two of them? They like you. It's not the end of the world."

"No, that was supposed to be before my eighteenth birthday."

"Supposed to be. It didn't happen, did it?"

"I wasn't on the planet for good reason," Raven said. "With a father like mine, I never expected dates or anything like that. I'm twenty-two, and I'm not in any rush to start dating." She checked the French toast and used the few seconds to take a few slow breaths. "I don't know why I'm talking about any of this."

"I'm here, Star isn't, and you're not irritated with me," Victor said.

She smiled. "I'm not. Well, maybe I am irritated, but it seems an odd reason. It just makes things strange, and I'm an empath. I know just how much this is affecting the team, and it just gets tangled fast. I can get more detail, when I focus on emotions, but even passive senses are getting more complicated."

"You're opening up, a little- maybe you get a better look at emotions now," Victor said. "What bothers you that they like you, really? I know they both went farther than necessary, when they were defending you- but it was for you. What's really the problem with this?"

"I don't know if I can feel that way, about them- it's not melodrama."

"I know, Raven. With anyone else, it would be overboard for the end of the world to be an offhand mention. I thought I had problems with my father-"

"Victor," she interrupted, before he could make the comparison. "It's not a competition. It's just the way life is, for me. I can't fix those differences, but I think you could."

"My father's the reason that I'm a walking science experiment."

"What happened?" she asked.

"There was an explosion, in the lab. It killed my mom, and should have killed me."

"Should have nothing. You're alive," Raven said. "I wouldn't want that to change." She looked to breakfast, and followed the emotions with her mind. "I'll make you breakfast later, fresh, if you'd like to make a phone call now."

She felt the old grudge start to break, and heard the doors that led to the garage open and shut. She understood those emotions, and there was no one to smile at but the spatula. She hadn't realized that people could reconcile with parents so easily, but it seemed that Mr. Stone really did have nothing on Trigon.

The kitchen was never quiet for too long, especially when the coffee was ready. Raven had twenty-five minutes to herself before the kitchen door opened.

"Where is friend Victor, Raven? He usually is awake by now."

"He's making a phone call. Weren't you irritated with him, Starfire?" Raven asked.

"I was."

"That's it?"

"Yes," Starfire said. "It is supposed to be more complicated, on your planet?"

"Don't blame me," Raven said, finishing the last of breakfast. "I've only lived here for four years. The guys are the locals."

"Are you still annoyed with them, Raven?"

"A little," Raven admitted. "I shouldn't be irritated that someone likes me, I suppose, but I don't want this to change the team. I know it already has, though. I can't be as comfortable with either of them- I just worry that I led them into thinking that way, and I never intended to."

"It may be odd for a few days, but the team can make it past this. We worked together last night, and will have to do so again today. Tim is best at putting the pieces of information together, but will need to ask all of us for the details," Starfire said.

"Logan's in the main hallway, and Tim is leaving the gym." Raven was beginning to recognize the tangles of emotions. "How do we fix this?"

"Patience," Starfire said. "They may be irritating, at times, but we know that this is not always the case."

"Is Vic around?" Tim asked as he found the coffee. "I want to ask him about the source for those weapons."

"He's making a phone call," Raven said. "I don't know how long he'll take."

"There's no rush," Tim said.

"I did register emotions, when the weapon detonated. Emotions can be hard to decipher, but I can remember the feel of them. It's hard to describe the exact sensations, but I am sure about one thing. Jinx and Gizmo were surprised and afraid when the weapon detonated. It wasn't intentional." Accidents felt different than calculated actions.

"They certainly looked surprised," Starfire agreed.

"Victor mentioned that Darcy Whittaker provided a lead," Raven said.

"Good morning, friend Logan."

"Good morning, Star." He wasn't nearly as enthusiastic, but at least he was polite. "I don't know why I'm so tired. Tim and I weren't the ones doing the work."

"It's morning and you haven't saturated your coffee with sugar," Raven said.

"Yet. Victor already left?"

"Phone call," Raven said. "Did you hear him?"

"Nobody else on the team has internal hydraulics." Logan's sense of smell was close to average, but he had more receptors to recognize scents. He could smell fear, to a limited extent, and not much else. He needed some clue to figure out if Raven was still annoyed, and body language and tone of voice weren't going to help. He'd have to guess. "Do we know anything else about what happened last night?"

"I was waiting for Victor," Tim said. "He has a few new details."

"You and Vic talked about this stuff after filling out paperwork with the cops. Could you give us the Cliff's Notes version?" Logan asked.

"I could." Tim said nothing else.

"Testosterone, take two," Raven muttered to Starfire. She didn't bother to lower her voice. Logan had very good hearing, and she would be surprised if Tim couldn't read lips.

Tim had an explanation ready but Starfire only giggled.

"That is not completely fair, friend Raven. I am sure that they have passed take two by now."

Tim had missed explaining a hormone and a term from movie production. He didn't like it.

"Tim, she does have a point. I think we're at five," Logan said with a smirk. "If we're just at four... well, close enough."

"I thought that we were past this," Tim replied. "We worked together last night."

"Changeling and Robin can work together without a hint of testosterone poisoning," Logan said. "It's the bit of schizo that all hero types have. Changeling and Robin can work together without a problem. Tim and Logan- not so much. I'm sure that you've seen this before. Whoever Batman is on his days off- and no, I'm not asking- I bet that he's different from He Who Has No Personality."

"Knock it off, Logan."

"See? You and Bats are having some kind of fight or other, don't give me the tell-me-now glare. You're Bats Junior, and your version just doesn't work. You're Robin, you're not in Gotham, you had a fight with Bats. You claim that we're past being honest about just how well we get along but you tell me to stop if I say a thing about Batman."

"You don't know about him, okay?"

"No, I don't. Hell, I don't know you, and I've lived in the same building for a few weeks. I don't know how it worked in Gotham, but this is a team. This isn't a main-name-and-sidekick deal. We have five people who get about equal billing."

"About?" Tim asked.

"About," Logan said. "In yesterday's fight, Raven had more press time. It's only right, with how much effort she put in. She had the part that made nice pictures and for that fight, it worked out that she did a lot of work. It won't be perfect, and the papers are going to love you, Starfire, and Raven. You're a known name in the hero business, thanks to Batman, and the girls are gorgeous."

Starfire laughed. "Logan, you have made your point. Can the two of you cease fighting for now, however? I am most interested in what information Timothy has found." She had been irritated with Tim and Victor, but they had not done anything to justify holding a grudge.

"Jinx and Gizmo had no idea the weapons would explode, according to an e-mail Victor printed off last night. She named the supplier as a Mr. Lee, and provided audio samples. She never saw him to give a physical description, and couldn't name an accent," Tim said.

"Let me get this straight. Jinx and Gizmo didn't know what the weapons would do, inadvertently came close to blowing away half a block, and would have died in the explosion that decimated the team. They would have been scapegoats," Logan said. "Hey, Tim? No searching looks. I have some gray matter, if it hasn't turned green, and it doesn't take a detective to figure Lee's probable scheme out. The interesting part is what Lee gets out of it: why would he benefit?"

"Cui bono."

"Exactly. Who would get ahead of Jinx and the other two blew sky-high with Titans?" Logan asked. "I don't have enough information about Lee, and I haven't seen something like this before. Think you can take a crack at it, exalted detective?"

"We don't have enough information for a detailed hypothesis, but someone benefits from this. They wanted a distraction at the least," Tim said.

"Dead heroes and conveniently obliterated scapegoats at the most," Logan said.

"I don't think anyone has a vendetta against us. A few criminals from Gotham don't like me at all, and just might make a side trip for a swing at a junior bat- but it wasn't any of the regulars. Joker wouldn't give anyone else the job, Riddler would have left a clue. They're all distinct. This is subtle."

"It didn't seem to be targeted at any specific Titan. You and I were away from the main blast. I don't think Vic or Star have any enemies on the planet, and the people that don't like Raven usually quote the Bible or make signs or something... No offense, Rae."

"None taken."

"It wasn't a certain plan," Tim said. "There was too much room for the plan to not work- the explosion happened only after Jinx touched the settings. We have security footage, thanks to Raven. Someone was interfering to distract us, I believe, if not to cause injury. What would they distract us from?"

"It could be a case of causing general havoc. Some villains like that- but if that's the case, why involve Jinx and company at all?" Logan asked.

"To distance themselves from whatever happened. Someone's interested in this city, and I want to know why."

"So do the rest of us," Logan said. "Let's see some detective work."

"You are leaving, friend Raven?"

"I'm going to see if Victor's done with a phone call. Whittaker called this morning with a possible lead, and he has the details."

It would save some time, and it would get her away from the conflict. Tim and Logan were not close to getting along, even when they seemed to be having a civil conversation. The undertones were giving her a headache, and it was a relief to stand outside the garage. Victor was calm, and wouldn't be irritated if she knocked.

"I just got off the phone a few minutes ago," Victor said after opening the door. "I'm not mad at him anymore. I haven't been for a while, I suppose, but it was just habit to not talk to my father."

"Maybe you could drop hints for Tim and Logan. They're having some sort of competition in the kitchen, and it's all looking too polite. The emotions behind the posturing are going to give me a migraine."

"I can at least patch things up," Victor said. "I took a few minutes before calling to clear my head, and set up a few background searches. There are only a few people that could possibly involved with a situation Darcy told me about- and Logan would be familiar with a couple. I need Tim to put together just what the likely suspect is up to. Working together might help something."

"I know it's none of my business, but I'm curious. You and your dad…"

"I still don't completely agree with him, but we're talking now. We talked, and we didn't hang up."

"You have control over your temper- if you lost that, it must have been a lot of stress," Raven said. "It's part of you, to me. Starfire's emotions are always completely honest, Logan still is grieving enough that it changes all other emotions, Tim's always storing information, and you're calm."

"Thanks." He hadn't heard that before, and she didn't lie.

Raven shrugged. "I am an empath. I think you would understand it best, that I have an additional sense about people." He had electronic senses. She still didn't know enough about electricity to even read the manuals for some systems, but did know that most people dealt only with five senses and intuition.

"Okay, I transferred video files to the main television. I have a few ideas, but I want input from both of them."

"Do you think that they can work together?"

"For a case, for a few minutes- maybe," Victor said. "Let's give it a try, shall we?"

"I can show you the footage in the common room," Victor said as he entered the kitchen. It would be better to delay questions- Logan and Tim would put it together, given the right clues. He was almost sure that Logan would have the answer after watching the short video clip, and Tim only needed a few clues. Tim tracked villains on the loose with some sort of database or other, and Victor had traced e-mails.

"A week ago, Mr. Lee was in Samara. Three days ago, Lee was in Anchorage. Two days ago, Lee was in Los Angeles. Tim, the laptop on the common room side table is ready to log into the network you use. The encryption for that data is alien- literally. You can log the locations in for me, right? Gizmo and I independently ran tracers, and we came up with the same answers."

"That's from what Jinx gave you?" Tim asked. "I can run those, no problem."

"Good. Logan, you've been in the business. Tim's checking on the problem with the weapons. I want you to take a look at someone likely causing trouble for Whittaker. The tapes aren't hoaxes as far as I can tell. She has nothing to benefit, and she sounded pretty shaken describing what she had seen," Victor said.

Raven and Starfire exchanged glances. Raven shrugged. Starfire followed Victor into the other room- something was happening, and she wanted to see.

Victor played the footage as Tim tapped a series of passwords into the screen. His laptop was more secure than most companies' computer networks. Logan watched the video.

"Dull, as far as offices go," Logan said.

"Keep your eyes on the intern," Victor said. "I'll play it through once at normal speed, then once in very, very slow motion. The intern's the nervous looking male."

The intern was in the walk-in closet when he dialed a number into his cell phone. An intentional bit of clumsiness spilled over a box of files, and the door swung shut.

Tim glanced up from the control screens. "I'll watch the slow motion," he said, even as he set the filters for just who he was looking for.

Logan blinked. The intern wasn't in the closet. A man in his forties was.

"Slow motion," Victor said, slowing down the animation to two frames per second. "This is a new camera- hidden in the walls, very nice picture quality."

The intern didn't disappear. He transformed, quickly even when the video was slow.

Logan had seen that before. He only knew of one person who transformed that quickly. The Brotherhood of Evil had fought a crime-fighting team based in Happy Harbor, Rhode Island.

Tim knew of one criminal that had moved from Samara, Russia to Anchorage, Alaska to Los Angeles, California in the given timeframe.

Tim and Logan spoke at the same time.

"Madame Rouge."


	11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

_Ah, the glorious days of college. "Sleep" is on par with writing as a hobby, or something I do when I have the time. This chapter is for two people: Kayasuri-N for making sure that the nonsense stayed out, and to Tim Drake for a few misunderstandings along the way. (I made it up to you, Tim.)  
_

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**  
"Jinx, phone call for you."

She looked from the ill-concealed smile on Mammoth's face to Gizmo's deceptively mild look. It was barely past six o'clock, and she knew who would call her. "Let me guess. Tall, shiny, and robotic?"

"Who else? Do we need to leave the room for you to talk with your boyfriend, Jinxy?"

"Sod off," Jinx said, swatting at his arm. "He's a hero, remember? He wouldn't call with anything interesting enough to get the two of you kicked out of the kitchen." She had just gone into the pantry to find another bag of flour, so he couldn't have been waiting too long. She picked up the phone and winked at her teammates. She was through making pretenses at being nice; she wasn't.

"What's a guy like you doing calling a girl like me?"

"Looking for information." Victor didn't mind skipping small talk.

He wasn't sure what one would say in small talk with Jinx.

"You have my phone number and e-mail," Jinx said, ignoring Gizmo's whispered suggestion to Mammoth. He had helpfully said it loud enough for her to hear.

"I want your expertise on a hypothetical matter."

"Do you need to crack a safe, trip a guard, or have some bad luck?" she asked prettily. Gizmo almost fell out of his chair laughing.

"It is hypothetical," Victor reminded her. "If a few friends and I were looking for one Madame Rouge, who recently took the aliases of Mr. Lee, Mr. Patrick Summers, and Raul Dandridge, would you have any advice?"

"She was Lee and Summers? What the hell was she doing messing around as a neo-con politician?" Gizmo and his outburst could just wait. Jinx would get the information first.

Cyborg delivered without needing prompting. "Causing havoc. You and your crew were supposed to be the conveniently six feet under scapegoats, me and mine were intended to be the martyrs. For some reason, she's focusing on this town as a start."

"I should have known," Jinx said, disgusted. "Rouge and their so-called Brotherhood smuggle through a seaport. Anyone who even tries the criminal equivalent of blowing a nose gets a warning. If they're good enough or deemed worthy, they get offered the chance to work as a low-level minion. Everyone knows that the goons always get it, when the cops come by, so she's left scraping rock bottom for talent."

"Would you happen to know where to find her? This is all hypothetical, remember."

Jinx felt a smile steal across her face. "You're insane. Completely and totally insane. She's fast, she can take any shape, she can heal, and she could throw you through a wall at fifty paces." Jinx didn't need to keep this from her team.

"They're going after Rouge," she said, covering the phone with her hand.

"That's what Changeling said- well, except the insane part. Do you know any weaknesses of hers?" Victor asked.

"Rouge? She's A-list, as far as the national and international set go. Some criminals just stay in one city, like Batman's chewtoys. I've never heard of a weakness. I've heard a few stories about the Brotherhood that make you want to gouge the images out of your brain with a power drill, but nothing about a weakness."

"Does she avoid anything? Have you ever seen her warehouse?"

"Giz, could you call up a visual on the north wall, facing the bay?" she asked before speaking into the phone.

"I broke in once. That was before I knew just what happened to the name badge employees. Breaking in is part of the application: it's easy. If you were planning on breaking in, just head up the sea way. Ignore the big garage door, head left. There's a side entrance that leads directly into a small office. The door's labeled C16. I just checked with Giz, it still says that in blue paint. I'm sure a clever boy like you can get in. Don't bother with the security feeds. She'll know you're there the instant you turn them off."

"I'll set them on a loop, just for fun. You don't have many opportunities to play with those sorts of things, in my line of work."

"It's not my fault that you're boring," Jinx said. She never had seen Gizmo that color; it wasn't very flattering on his small form. She told Gizmo so before continuing the conversation with Victor. "From the office, you'll enter the main warehouses. There are shelving units permanently installed to the left of the door. The only openings are over the top and either side. She modified the warehouse, and the oddest thing is that she has fire extinguishers almost everywhere. Most of her imports wouldn't catch fire if you blasted them with an acetylene torch, but they're set up every twenty yards. The main building is about forty by fifty yards, at a rough estimate. From the office, you're looking down the longer end."

"Thank you." He meant it. Damned hero-type was going after Rouge, and who the hell did he think he was? Rouge had taken down all kinds of big shots, but there was nothing she could say that would get reason through his thick skull.

"If you were considering taking out Rouge, it's the least I can do," Jinx said curtly.

"Part of my job, Jinx, but I don't take people out. We throw them in jail."

"You think a jail is going to keep Rouge." Her voice was too flat for the words to be a question. At least it stopped Gizmo from turning any closer to violet.

"One that Batman has a hand in? We have our own connections."

"Whatever you say, hero." She hung up the phone. That was the end of it, at least. He had what he needed, he wouldn't call again, she was over it. She held her breath, counting backwards… and it was over.

"They're crazy," Gizmo said. "Completely crazy, but they just might have a shot."

"Fast, strong... maybe they could," Mammoth said.

"Maybe." Jinx wasn't sure, and didn't want to trust an annoying hero to luck.

* * *

"Tim, this isn't going to work," Logan said. He had abandoned a normal volume after the first two repetitions. "Have you watched video of the woman? She's fast, she's strong, and she's completely ruthless."

"I've done my research, Logan."

Logan wasn't going to put up the nobly-suffering act. "So has Victor. Jinx agreed with me on all counts. Hell, she even pointed out that no one wants to know about what the Brotherhood of Evil does when not committing crimes. Tim, we need more of a plan than throwing little explosive diskettes at her."

"Discs, Logan."

"Like that makes it all better. Tim, you've never seen this woman in action. I have. I've had broken bones because of her. 'Sneak in and throw shit at her' does not in any way constitute a plan."

"Both of you, cool down," Victor said. "Logan, ease up a little. I'm pretty sure that they can hear you on the mainland."

"There is no way that the plan will work, Tim. We need something else. You couldn't last in one-on-one combat against this woman. You just couldn't. She could beat you up from a range of twenty feet if she was feeling lazy. We should wait a day, get something that at least is a ranged weapon. A ranged weapon that'll work against her, to be specific. I don't like the idea of you and Starfire throwing your little fire-disks at the woman while the rest of us are sitting ducks."

"Do you have something better?"

"I already suggested it."

"Logan, can I talk to you for a minute?" Raven asked. It at least broke up yet another reprisal of the testosterone wars.

"What did you need, Rae?"

Curiosity and anger almost buried grief, but she was much better at detecting that elusive emotion. "Don't be so mad at Tim because you miss her," she said. "You were mad the last time I put it so bluntly, but you seem to have no problem with laying out problems for anyone who passed second grade to understand."

"Since you're being blunt- why did you want to talk about this now?"

"You needed a break from Tim," she said. That was true, if the diplomatic version.

"Raven, this plan won't work. I'm at least used to some of her tricks, but I can't exactly warn you when she's going to do something if I change. Starfire's fast, and could be as strong as Rouge. You can phase through things, teleport, and cause some serious property damage. I'm most worried about Tim and Victor. Tim's great, but if she catches him- what is he going to do? Vic has some high-power blasting, but he still moves much slower than Rouge."

"She wants us out of the picture, Logan, or at least did. Robin has the police on standby. I think we can do this. She's tough, but we can work as a team," she said.

"About that. Raven, I-"

"I know," she said. She could read the shadowed affection from even those few syllables. "I overreacted. I didn't expect one person to ever feel that kind of emotion. Two… it was too much to deal with. I'm not interested in that kind of relationship. I have enough of a handful adapting to fighting with my powers."

"How about a friend?"

She smiled. "I'd like that."

Logan didn't say what he and Raven had talked about, and no one else asked. "I retain the right to say that this might not work," Logan said. "How about we make a few changes?"

* * *

"The door's open," Cyborg said. "The warehouse door for accepting shipments, according to Robin's blueprints." He looked around the docks, but saw nothing else about them that was out of place. He heard waves lapping at the edge, and nothing else.

"Should anyone investigate?" Starfire asked quietly. "I can move quickly." It was a short distance from the docks to Madame Rouge's warehouse.

"Raven can teleport. That's faster," Robin said. "Are you up to it, Rae?"

"What's the plan? Have a look, come back?" Raven gauged distance. She could see the open space in front of the door. "It's unusual for that door to be open, I would think."

"That's the impression that Oracle gave me," Robin said. "Starfire, cover her. Starbolts at the ready if Rouge makes an appearance."

"Ready," Starfire said, moving her hands into position. She focused her attention on the doorway. "Cyborg, please watch the rest of the area."

"Got it, Star," he said.

"I'm going," Raven said. "I'll teleport back to this spot. Leave room for me."

"Careful, Raven. Rouge is a nasty customer," Changeling said.

She nodded. "Got it."

Changeling watched as she melted into black. She was stepping out to the side of the door in the next instant, and a falcon's vision showed her eyes widening and a word beginning on her lips before there was a flash of movement- she was gone, and there had been no black.

"Cyborg, play that back," Changeling said, words moving fast. "One tenth the speed," he advised, but Cyborg had already guessed. This time, they didn't see a flash. Four of them watched a fist connect with a temple before a wide arm snatched Raven out of sight.

He should have known. Rouge might have been across the warehouse, but she had unnatural vision and was faster than she should be. "She knows we're here," Changeling said. Somehow, his voice was even- Rouge had a teammate. "We might as well move into sight." It was one of her oldest tricks, grabbing a teammate to get cooperation from the team. She had done it to him, before, and afterward Rita-

"Logan, don't lose your cool," Tim murmured- and for a fraction of a second, Robin wasn't there. It was just Tim and Logan. "This isn't over yet, Changeling. Villains, especially the big ones, love the sound of their own voices. She'll give us an opening."

The four of them moved forward, and Changeling was the one to yell out. They hadn't discussed it, but they knew.

"What's the matter, Rouge? Rhode Island was too much for you?" he called.

"You're hardly in the position to be rude, Beast Boy- or is it Changeling now?" She stood silhouetted in the doorway, a limp figure in one arm. "Unless you don't like your teammate, that is. I suppose that your public image would improve without a half-demon."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "I won't let you hurt her."

"Do you speak from experience? I already have, and you hardly did a good job with Elasti-girl." She paid no attention to the growling tone of his challenge. "I will set the terms. I trust your team is smart enough to realize that I have the upper hand."

Robin waited for Changeling to say something. All he heard was a low- growl? Startled, he turned to look only to find nothing human about the look in Changeling's eyes.

"Changeling," Robin said sharply.

There was no response. All that Robin heard in reply was Rouge's laughter. "Let's be rational, shall we? I don't need to provide any more demonstrations to an unprepared audience. I am prepared for a business transaction, even if other details have not panned out. Should this go off without a hitch, you will find your teammate here tomorrow. Do we have a deal?"

Robin glanced at Changeling. This was a bad situation. She was fast, and none of them could do much in this situation. Leaving was unacceptable. Changeling had mentioned something like this, however, so maybe he would have some-

He froze, jaw close to dropping, when Changeling began to shift. Robin was used to instantaneous transitions, but the twisting and growing was just unnatural. The strong purple and black material stretched and broke, but he couldn't tear his eyes from Changeling's face. It was contorted with pain, first, and then it was misshapen in the transition.

There was only one answer. Robin remembered the flash of video, and the claws spreading from Changeling's hands even as his back arched.

Only Rouge appeared nonplussed. "You've learned a few new special effects. Just what do you think you're doing? You can't beat me. You can't even scratch me before your little girlfriend here-"

Robin didn't hear the last few words- Changeling _roared, _and the force of it nearly knocked Robin over. The beast that wasn't Changeling charged forward, some mix of man and wolf and cat, and he didn't find his voice to yell an order before Starfire was racing forward.

The beast met Rouge in a swipe of claws, nearly taking her arm off. He forced her to use both arms to have a chance of holding him off- Star dove in to pick up Raven the instant she saw an opening, and sent a starbolt at an arm coming in her direction.

"Nice, Starfire," Cyborg said, mind already moving on. "I'll check her vitals- Starfire, Robin, go help out Changeling." He glanced at the fight with his hand around Raven's wrist. "Her heart's steady, her breathing's normal, and she'll have one hell of a headache. Go on." The beast Changeling had become was cutting lines in Rouge, but she was healing just as quickly. The beast didn't have that luxury, but showed no reaction to being pummeled by Rouge.

"Call the police in," Robin said.

"Got it."

"It will be as we planned, Robin," Starfire said, eyes blazing and the battle racing through her blood. "Ready?"

"Ready."

Cyborg didn't watch as Starfire flew Robin closer to Rouge. He knew the plan. They would use Robin's explosives. Starfire would detonate them in midair, and the fire would (in theory, at least) be something that Rouge couldn't heal from.

Cyborg had a full squad of police waiting by the time Robin and Starfire drove Rouge to unconsciousness, with help from the beast. The police had technology flown from Gotham earlier that day. He didn't watch as the police cuffed Rouge, or when they checked to ensure she truly was unconscious. Instead, he registered Raven's vital signs. She was going to be fine.

He looked up when he heard harsh breathing. "Hey, Logan," Cyborg said quietly. The beast didn't recognize him, but it didn't matter. He was staring at Raven. "She's going to be fine, thanks to you." It could have worked another way, but they didn't need to deal with those hypothetical situations. Logan would be sore in the morning, but there would be nothing worse.

The beast yawned, then returned his gaze to Raven, eyes half-lidded. "Go on, go to sleep." Cyborg could recognize tiredness, if nothing else. He didn't know if Logan understood him, or if the beast could- but the beast shrank until Logan was left in a tattered uniform. "You too, Tim. I'll take care of the paperwork today."

"He will have many bruises tomorrow," Starfire remarked as she gently lifted Logan from the ground.

"And all the nasty tofu he wants," Cyborg said. He would carry Raven.

"You better treat my car right," Cyborg warned before opening the back door of his car.

"You're letting me-"

"I'm letting you," Victor interrupted, tossing Tim the keys. "Let's go home."


	12. CHAPTER TWELVE

_This is the last chapter of Red, but there is a follow-up. The first chapter of Jade is posted, and will be ready as soon as you finish this chapter. Read, review, and enjoy. _

**CHAPTER TWELVE**  
"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. What big claws you had."

Logan stretched- okay, maybe he shouldn't stretch that arm. "A computer for a brain, and you can't even keep fairy tales straight." He was in the med bay, he was tired, and the last thing he remembered was Rouge, and- "Where's Raven?"

"Asleep. She woke up last night around eleven. We convinced her she wasn't up to healing a paper cut, Tim gave her the brief version of the fight, and then she crashed in her room."

"Everyone else is okay?"

Victor nodded. "Raven has a bruise on her cheek. You got yourself pretty banged up, but Raven said that it was nothing she couldn't handle after a full night's sleep and some breakfast. It'll be lunch by the time she gets up, but we have nothing else going on today."

"What did I do?" Logan felt like he had ran a marathon through a gauntlet.

"You attacked Rouge. Claws, teeth, punches- whatever. She kept shifting and healing herself, but she couldn't get rid of you. Robin threw his explosives at Rouge. Starfire got them to explode just before contact. He and Star kept that up for a full half hour until the police could arrest her. The jurisdiction's going through Robin to ask Batman for a way to contain her without going against the eighth amendment."

"The meta acts said that the eighth doesn't apply to metas," Logan reminded him.

"That could change. The election is tomorrow, and Whittaker's riding on the public sympathy."

"How much of the fight made the news?"

"No one has footage, and the cops aren't sharing just what happened. They don't know Tim's there, but my identity isn't exactly secret," Victor said.

"You at least have a hologram, once in a while. Green isn't exactly discreet." Logan didn't dwell on how much effort it took to sit up.

"You're just in the med bay on a precaution. If you're sore, it's because Rouge did a number on you before Tim and Star could get her off. After the fight, you weren't all in there, but you made sure Raven was okay before you fell over," Victor said.

"Speak of the pretty healer…" Logan said.

She flushed, just as he had predicted, but rolled her eyes. "Some people. Just because they're heroes…" The thought trailed off, and she didn't continue it. "Tim is cooking. Starfire is helping him, but there won't be any Tamaranean fare. The faster I heal you, the faster you can get to breakfast or lunch."

"Heal away," he said, offering a hand. "You need contact, right?"

"Right."

Her hand was small in his, and her eyes were fixed on the white light that spread from her hand.

"You had cracked ribs, along with the bruises," she said when the last of the white light had faded away.

"That's not bad," Logan said. There was an upside to being a beast, then. Rouge hadn't been able to do much damage.

"Thanks," she said. The word was easy. She even could meet his eyes, saying it. "Not many people would have done that for me."

"I can think of four," he said. "I only can speak for one, but I know I'd do it again."

She could feel something behind the green expression and greener eyes, and it wasn't a threat. It was a promise, one of the best kinds. "I hope that I don't have to take you up on that. And it's mutual."

That was it. She slipped her hand out of his, and they went to breakfast.

* * *

Tim needed to call Oracle. She had sent an e-mail about something just a few hours after Rouge had been arrested. It was in their old code, a message that Tim could receive while at school. None of his classmates would think it was suspicious that Barbara needed him to come over to help with her computer. They didn't know that Oracle could write programs Tim couldn't figure out how to operate, and he never had been able to tell him just why that e-mail was funny.

He remembered that code; it was odd, how well he remembered that, but he also remembered the weekend that they had spent making it up. He should call her within twenty-four hours. It was important. The severity of the computer problem necessary meant that it did involve a civilian life. An hour wouldn't make a difference, though, if Oracle had it under control. He could have gone to his office-but it was Starfire's day with the dishes.

"Hey, Starfire." It wasn't the most original opening, but she did turn and smile.

"Hello, Timothy. Breakfast was most excellent. Do you need anything?"

"Rinsing off the pots and pans usually isn't this much work," Tim said. "I'll help you with them."

"You do not have to. I have no problem with cleaning."

"Maybe I want to."

It was the right thing to say, it seemed, because her smile changed to a new expression. Starfire had dozens of smiles, he thought. This one meant that she was happy with him, and that smile remained unique to him. "That is very nice of you, Timothy."

"My motives aren't all charitable, you know. I have a few that are pretty selfish."

"What would those be?" she asked.

"I know things got… confusing, and I never meant for that to happen. Can we start over?"

She finished scouring the last pan. He placed it in the dishwasher before she answered.

"Do you mean to start from the very beginning? If so, we already have had our disputes. I believe those can be not counted." She set down the last pan.

"It'd mean a lot to me, if we could be friends again."

Starfire smiled, a completely different expression, and he realized just how close he was standing. "If we are starting from the beginning, and already have fought…"

She kissed him, and was walking away before his jaw could drop.

* * *

"The Titans to see you, Ms. Whittaker."

"Send them right in, Chloe." Darcy glanced at her desk-it was a wreck. When Robin had called her to mention that he and the team would be visiting, she had thought that he meant within the week, if at all. She hadn't expected that they would be walking through her office in the next five minutes. Papers were half-packed into boxes, a tornado could only neaten the clutter on her desk, and her cell phone had been lost somewhere in her inbox.

She stood when she heard footsteps in the hall, and met them at the door of her narrow office. "Thanks for dropping by. My office is currently a disaster area, not that there ever was enough room for six people. The conference room isn't too terribly messy, I believe."

"Congratulations on the election, Ms. Whittaker," Robin said.

"Please, call me Darcy," she said, crossing her fingers as she opened the door. There were only two boxes. It would have to do. "I'll get a sixth chair from the lobby, and-"

"There is no need," the alien said with a bright smile. Starfire, that was it. If the girl could knock Cinderblock over, she certainly could handle a chair. Robin watched her as she took one from the lobby, Darcy noticed, and the gaze wasn't what she would have expected. She concealed a smile and moved a box to make room.

"Forgive me for being rude, but why did you wish to see me?" Darcy asked when everyone was seated.

"You're going to be the mayor," Robin said. "We would like to keep a close working relationship, to make sure that there aren't any disputes. We're not an election gimmick, we're not your public relations stunt team, and we're not going to support any decisions of yours that we don't like. We will, however, provide security for your speech in a week and a half. I have it from a source I trust with my life that the Brotherhood of Evil has looked into contracting a hit on your life, to take place at your first speech."

"A-hit?" she asked faintly.

"Because of information you provided, Madame Rouge is in jail," Changeling explained. "She's not a very nice individual, and she took it personally. She wants to cause political unrest, and her compatriots seem to have decided a political event would be a good setting."

"Do you know who she has contacted?"

"My source couldn't get the name of the assassin, but we do have the time and location," Robin said. "I know that it's disconcerting to hear something like this, but we decided that it would be better to tell you. As a precaution, one of us will be with you starting a day before the speech, with your permission."

"Thank you," she said, voice shaken. "We will remain in contact, I trust?"

"Yes, on matters beside this," Robin said. "We also want to speak to you about repealing some of the more restricting ordinances of the town." He held an identification card in his hands, and bands of white were visible.

"They're not right," Raven said. She slid hers across the table. "This piece of plastic intimidates people- you're going to be the mayor. You need to understand." She didn't like politicians, but she did want those laws changed. There were metas that didn't have the chance to talk to politicians.

Darcy looked over the red rectangle of thin plastic- it was the size of a credit card. A large picture covered almost half of one side, in a scowling likeness of Raven's face. Her full name was printed in capitals above the picture, and the driver's license number across the bottom. Those details were much like Darcy's own identification card, but the bold text at the bottom of the card said it all: Metahuman, Class A. Half Demon.

Darcy looked up, startled. "They give this much information?" She had never seen a card before, but it seemed too revealing. Hotels required cards for registration, as did landlords. It was a locally made ordinance, she remembered.

"They give more," Raven said, accepting her card. "The back gives an address, a list of powers, the usual pertinent information on a driver's license, and a fingerprint."

"I didn't know."

"Then it's time that you did," Raven said, and the words weren't quite a judgment. "It's something to think about. We will contact you about security."

Darcy shook hands with each Titan, her head only half in the action. She could bring a motion to the city council- it wouldn't make her popular, perhaps, but if she were to move to San Francisco after a term… Being liberal was practically a requirement, and it only made sense.

She was distracted by new thoughts and possibilities, but still watched the Titans leave her office. Changeling had dropped back, to speak with Robin. Darcy wondered what they would talk about. Not because they were metas, though, but because they were heroes, and it was past time the city recognized that.

The clutter on her desk was forgotten. She had more to deal with than letters from various politicians who would want something in return later. Where was that set of precedents about new policies mayors had implemented…

Darcy was moving her things to the mayor's office, she had the Titans to advise her about just what they needed, and she had a family-friendly issue to discuss at her first speech as mayor. Not even an assassin would ruin her mood. The Titans could do what they did best, and she would focus on being a politician people liked to vote for.

* * *

"I have to say, Tim, I don't envy you all the bureaucratic nonsense," Logan said. "Spokesperson, chief paper-pusher, polite in the face of politicians… it is a pity all that goes with the job."

"What are we talking about, exactly?" Tim asked. The other three Titans were just ahead. Knowing their friends, Tim and Logan both would bet that the other three were eavesdropping shamelessly.

"You and the leader gig, of course," Logan said. He shook his head. "Sad, that all the responsibility has already gotten to your brain- it doesn't make sense to have a leader on the field, and none off. Almost enough to make you sorry you're good at it, isn't it."

"When did this happen?"

"Two days ago, of course, when your plan was a piece of crap, we both added a few changes, and you later admitted that the plan didn't work. It was my fault just as much, but you were going to take all of it. You've got enough of a martyr to make this team work, and you're getting experience the old-fashioned way. Screwing up and muddling through anyway."

Tim smiled. "Thanks. I think."

"Anytime," Logan said. "Let's catch up to the others. They're listening to every word we say, so we might as well make it easy for them."

Five communicators rang. Eight eyes looked to Robin.

Tim's mask hadn't moved, but it was Robin that read the summary and rapped off a quick series of orders. Starfire and Raven were in the air just a second before a green bird shot into the air. They didn't need it, really, but the falcon wheeled overhead, the girls hovered, and Cyborg waited. It wasn't necessary- but what team didn't have their own traditions?

"Titans, go!"


End file.
